What Lies Beneath the Autumn Leaves
by Big Diesel
Summary: This is a story of Taro Yamada and the journey he is facing in his last year of high school. A new teacher has entered the school and for some reason, Taro feels that he has met the mysterious woman in the past. Stay tuned as you read What Lies Beneath the Autumn Leaves.
1. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

It was a crisp autumn morning. A clear autumnal blue sky or that deep blue sky of autumn. He felt the sun's warmth on his back, dispelling the autumn chill. A clump of golden leaves at the top of the green tree heralding the coming of fall. Golden edged leaves, leaves nipped by frost, golden trees with here and there a red maple lending its brilliant scarlet color to the scene. The rustle of golden leaves under the trees. He heard the delighted barks of two dogs dove through the pile of leaves, chasing each other round and round and scattering golden leaves everywhere. He slightly smiled at the scene. He was certain that their owner will have to rake their leaves in the yard.

He inhaled as the cool autumn wind soothe him as if it was cleansing his soul. He smiled as he walked his usual route through the town square. Alas, the remnants of summer passed away as the locals exchanged their short sleeve shirts and shorts for long sleeve jackets and pants. No longer could he smell the fragrance of the bakery's apple pie as it was exchanged for the pumpkin pie and hot cocoa. He even felt the smell the air of the earth's perfume as it nipped his nose.

As he crossed the street to the side road that led to his school, he witnessed the colorful bashfulness of the schoolchildren playing with the leaves. Like confetti did the leaves swirled along with the screams and excitement from the schoolchildren. If he had a camera, the scene would have been picturesque. His heart became warm even though the temperature was not, but it had brought him great joy that his favorite time of year took precedence.

Taro Yamada loved autumn because it reminded him of himself: relaxed, enjoyable, easy-going, comfortable, and vibrant. The latter of his personality was in small doses because he was working hard on bettering himself. This was his senior year of high school, the final moments of his adolescence before metamorphosing in a young adult. With college exams steadily approaching, his time as a high schooler was running out.

He reflected on how he spent his years as a high school student. A shy student he was, he hid behind his black hair as he blended in with his fellow peers. He didn't join any clubs and if he did, they were only for a trial basis.

His reason of deeming these clubs inadmissible was not because he thought he was better than them. He was afraid of opening himself to his fellow classmates. Ever since he was a child, he was afraid of expressing himself to his classmates. His parents thought it was because of his early days in elementary school as he was bullied. Although he faced some hazing, that wasn't the primary reason, according to Taro. His younger sister thought it was a lack of self-confidence. He described himself to not be as confident, but he felt that he was capable of loving himself. Once again, that wasn't the reason of opening himself to classmates. With the exception of his loose friendship and childhood friend, Osana Najimi, the friends he had in-and-out of his life, he called them "seasoned friends." At one point they are there, and the next, they are gone.

Taro Yamada was afraid to not open himself up to classmates because he felt that they will not understand his aura. His aura, or lack for any better word, was his word choice to describe his inner spirit. He had become accustomed to the word when he briefly joined the occult club in junior high school. He believed that there are certain spirits that can only intertwined together. He has yet to find a certain friend that can match his chemistry. Because of his uncertainty with people and with his personality, the only source of comfort that he could find in a friend was with books.

Books became a source, better yet, a window to open his emotions as much as he pleased. He became quite acquainted with books during his second year of high school. On a field trip, he and his classmates were required to read a book of poems before having an open forum with the poet. As he sat in the hotel, he decided to give a book a chance. Before then, he wasn't much of a reader. He let manga and videogames be the deciding factor of his spare time. However, once he read a certain part of a page, he felt a stunning connection as if the poet was reading into his soul.

 _An autumn gust blows_

 _Chilling the air and blowing_

 _The clouds and the trees_

 _The leaves blow away_

 _In a final flight they dance_

 _Beautiful yet dead_

 _Is it cruel or kind_

 _That the leaves never truly_

 _Do perceive their flight?_

Upon reading that particular passage, any source of melancholy or apathy went away as he was moved by the passage. He continued reading into the night until the day of the forum. He hanged on every single note the poet escaped from her lips. Her passion became his passion. He was enraptured by the loves of books and since then, it became his oasis, his solace, and his friend.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the school bell. Its' chimes were welcoming; signifying and alerting that _all students are invited to come to school to begin their learning. Welcome to school! Welcome to your future!_

He soon became a part of the crowd as they packed the square for another day at school. Their high school was a private institution and considered one of the best in the prefecture. Being admitted to this school wasn't easy and Taro was on the waiting list before being entered on conditional basis. The private high school was the high school for the elite. The majority of the students who came to the school came from upper middle class families. The sons and daughters of businessmen, socialites, doctors, lawyers, entertainers, and the like filled the school with the hopes of upholding the school's reputation. These were the students who plan to attend national universities following high school.

Taro Yamada was not the case. Coming from a working class family, his father was a salaryman and his mother was a grocery clerk at a supermarket. Regardless of his upbringing, his parents strived for the best for him and his sister. Education was top priority and he saw how they worked countless hours so that he could be admitted to the prestigious high school. Frankly, it didn't mattered to him about attending the school. He would have felt better of attending a local one in his neighborhood. However, his parents did want to hear it. He could remember the day when he was in junior high and his parents had him sign the papers for acceptance.

'Mom, dad, you don't have to this,' he said as he looked at the application. The application displayed his acceptance to the high school. Once he signed the papers, he would be in.

'Son,' said his father, 'Your mother and I want you to go to the best of the best. We want you to do things that we were unable to do. Don't you want a future? Don't you want to go to college, be successful, and outdo your parents?' Taro could remember the worriedness in his father's eyes. Those tired, worrisome set of eyes became accustomed to his father's look as he worked over 70 hours a week at a job he could hardly stand. As much Taro wished that his father could stop overworking himself to death, he still worked. His father said to him, _When you want the best for your children, my happiness is nigh. For you and your sister, I will do what I can so that you can have a future._

'Please, Taro,' said his mother gently as he felt the soft grip of her hand on his shoulder. He knew that her hand around his shoulder meant that it was a plead. It was a nudge to go over and beyond for the sake of the family.

Taro knew that there were only a couple of times he had felt compelled to do something like that. One of which was when he was in elementary school and his father had to move to another town in another part of the island. He was finally getting adjusted to his new school before the abrupt move. It was hurtful to him, but for the sake of the family.

'I know that you want the best for me, mom and dad. But there are other ways. Think about yourselves. I hate seeing you all like this,' he said. 'I have no problem going to a local school. It will be free and money doesn't have to be an issue. I promise that I will work hard. I promise that I will go to college. But, I don't like seeing yourself stress over me.'

'Please, son. It is not everyday that you get an opportunity like this,' said his father. 'Don't worry about us. We will be fine. Think about the richness of education being provided to you. Think about the opportunities of associating yourself with the elite. Think about the opportunities of being in the best colleges in Japan.'

'Look at it as investment, dear,' said his mother. 'It is a partial scholarship and payment won't be as harsh. I can work my hours the same and your father can work a little less.'

'I just don't like that you are hurting yourselves for me,' said Taro as he tried his hardest not to swell any of his emotions. 'I have seen too many people like you who work themselves to death. And I love you too much to lose you. And for what, just to say I went to a fancy high school?'

There was silence for a moment. The atmosphere of the living room was thickened. His father took the pen from his desk and handed it to his son. 'Taro, I promise we won't work ourselves to death. We think about you and your sister all of the time. But we are tired of being in a bind. We work so hard so that you can have a future. Not just for you, but for us. Our parents didn't have the opportunities to go to college, let alone finish school. I didn't have the chance to finish high school myself. I dropped out after getting your mother pregnant with you. She managed to finish school. She tried to go to trade school, but dropped out after it became difficult raising you and your sister.'

His mother interjected. 'When the school allowed us a chance to enroll you, we were thrilled. I knew that this school can help you and nurture you to become a young gentleman. I know you are a selfless boy. You always have. You always looked out for us and had to bear the sacrifices like us. We are asking you one more time to go over and beyond for us. So, please.' She took the pen from her husband and wrapped it around Taro's hand. The soft, gentle warmth of her hand wrapped softly around him. He closed his eyes to exhale and just sigh. 'Okay,' said Taro as he signed the admission letter to the school. Both of his parents kissed him on each cheek as he did the altruistic deed.

The sound of the school bell interrupted his thoughts, returning him to reality. The atmosphere of the high school was very active and vibrant as it was on any day. He passed through a group of girls in their matching blue blouse and blue skirts. They were laughing about something that they did over the weekend. He then passed through the bike racks where he saw a couple of boys talking about their encounters with a female classmate or watching some inappropriate video. He sighed as he was familiar to usual whims of typical high school life. Now back to the matter at hand, his place of solace-the school fountain.

Everyday without incident, Taro Yamada made his venture to the school fountain. It became an everyday routine since the beginning of his second year. Taro enjoyed the beauty of nature that surrounded him. With the entrance of autumn, this could not have been a better time to began his routine.

Once he found a proper place to sit, he pulled out his book from his backpack and began reading. This book selection were the collection of poems written by Maya Angelou. A few months ago, Taro began taking interest in reading African American literature after a foreign exchange student attending the school recommended it to him. An avid reader and open to any genre, he subjected himself to this book and never had put it down since. Soon, the sounds of laughter from his peers and the sounds of the fountain spraying triumphantly faded away as he escaped into his book.

After awhile, he heard the final chimes of the school bell and he knew that it was time to go inside for class. He placed his book inside of his backpack and headed toward the school doors. The school doors, beautiful and made with the finest of glass and steel, donned itself to the elite as they entered the school. He went inside and went to his locker. He took off his shoes and placed them in the locker. He then put on his school shoes. As he trying to leave, he heard of sound of a young gentleman calling his name.

"Wait up, Taro," said the boy. Taro turned around and saw the smiling face of the foreign exchange student. The boy was brown skinned. He was tall and had long black hair. Although he was a teenager, he appeared childlike. He came and approached Taro as he stuck out his hand.

"Hey, Marcus, how are you," said Taro as he stuck out his hand to shake it. "I am just getting into the book that you gave me. I really like it." "Thanks," said Marcus. "I knew that you liked poetry a lot and I thought you could diversify your taste." "I appreciate that, Marcus," said Taro with a smile.

Taro Yamada and Marcus Joseph were more of acquaintances than they were friends. Marcus Joseph was a foreign exchange student from the United States spending his senior year in Japan. Although they were in the same class, their acquaintanceship began when they were visiting a bookstore. Their love for books establish a connection with the pair. Since then, they would exchange poems, books, and manga with each other.

"I must say, Marcus, your Japanese is getting a lot better," said Taro as the pair were walking the hallway on the way to class.

"Thanks, man. Haruka is great at being a tutor and she is teaching me well," said Marcus. Taro kind of smile and bump his elbow at Marcus' arm.

"With that tone of voice, I can guess someone is crushing on someone." "

Cut it out, man," said Marcus as he blushed. "We are not like that. I don't think Haruka is even thinking of me like that. We are in two different cultures." "

Don't think like that. So you are American and she is Japanese. Last time I checked, love is love, my friend. If you like her, then go for it."

"Another time perhaps," said Marcus. "Oh, did you hear that we are getting a new Japanese teacher."

"Really," said Taro with a hint of surprise coming from his voice. "When was this announced?"

"It was over the weekend. They didn't get into detail, but the headmaster said that we were getting a new teacher," said Marcus. "However, word around the campfire was that the teacher 'transferred.'"

Taro stiffened by hearing the word, _transferred_. At this high school, transferred was a euphemistic term for being fired, arrested, or worse, death.

"I don't think there is nothing to worry about, Taro," said Marcus, giving Taro reassurance. "Rumors and hearsays are the common things at a rich school. For all we know, Hiroguchi-sensei may have wanted to retire. He was about almost in his 70s."

"Yeah, yeah, you are right," answered Taro. _Why does that word scare me so_ , he thought to himself.

"He is wrong, Taro. You should be scare. But not as scare as what I am going to do to you," said the rough, but gentle voice of a woman.

He sighed as he turned around and saw the sight of a beautiful redheaded girl in pigtails wrapping her arms around Marcus. She was short, yet slender. She had beautiful eyes. Her nose was curvy and she had a nice body. Her stomach was toned and her hips were slender. Her bust was average, but her butt made up for it.

"Hello, Osana," said Taro reluctantly.

"Hello, Taro," said Osana as she loosened her grip on Marcus before pecking him on the cheek. Flustered, Marcus left the pair as he rushed his way into the classroom.

"I just love American cuties like him. They can get so flustered," said Osana with a wink at Taro. "I hope you weren't jealous." She walked toward him, swaying her hips the entire time before she was face length with him. "If you want, I can have fun with you, too. For a price."

Taro was getting flustered as he felt the sweat vacating his pores from under his arms. Taro was an expert in speaking English and Japanese, but he still couldn't speak woman. He tried to back away before Osana grabbed his hips, pushing them closer together. "There, you are now at my reach," said Osana with a grin on my face.

"Why are making me so uncomfortable," said Taro as he averted his eyes from her. "Because seeing you like this makes me laugh. Also because you are acting so like a virgin."

"And your point is, Ms. Cheshire Cat," said Taro with a rebuttal. "Anyway, what do want?"

"Same thing like you," she said sharply. "Wanting to know what happened to our dear, poor Japanese teacher, Hiroguchi-sensei."

"I am surprised that you don't know," said Taro, "Since you are part of the Student Council."

"Well," she said flustered, "You know what, screw you. I need to have this kind of talk. Especially coming from a virgin." She huffed and puffed her way into the classroom.

"Same time, same place, next week," he said as he walked into the classroom. However, the thought of having a new teacher still reeled in his mind. Taro has had a history with separation anxiety. Since seeing the school counselor, he was finding alternative methods to soothe his worries with change.

 _I just hope that I will be okay. I hope that Hiroguchi-sensei is fine. Whereever he is_ , he thought to himself.

Suddenly, he heard the door of his classroom slid open. The class knew their position of remaining silent when hearing the opening of doors. The students stood in awe as if they saw an angelic presence approaching them. Taro looked down at his desk as he heard the loud footsteps echoing the room. When he finally looked up, he saw an appearance of a young woman in front of them.

It was a stunningly attractive brunette who entered the classroom. She was quite tall for a woman. She had a creamy white complexion. Her eyes were green. She had freckles that complimented her. She was wearing a black business suit with her dress stopping at middle of the knee. Her legs were bashing. Her thighs were beautiful. Her main highlights were her breasts and her butt. Overall, this was a beautiful, curvaceous woman.

"Good morning, students," said the firm voice of the woman.

"Good morning, sensei," replied the class in unison.

She turned around to write her name on the board. The mouths of the boys were agape as they were entranced in such a beauty.

She turned around and introduce herself. "My name is Mitsuko Takahashi. From this moment on, I will be your sensei and your homeroom teacher for class 3-2."

She narrowed her eyes and scanned the entire class before focusing her sights on Taro Yamada. When her eyes met his, for a moment, he thought he saw a sparkle of red gleaming from her eyes. She gave a slight smile before turning around to start class. "Pull out your notebooks and let's begin." The class did what they were told and class began.

Taro felt a shiver went through his spine. He felt a deep lump coming from his throat. His palms were sweating and it was shown as his notebook was soaked. His mind was still focused on the red sparkle that came from her. Something about that was vaguely familiar. He couldn't finger on it. He decided to overlook it, but kept it in reserve.

From the window, he was able to see the full picture of autumn's beauty as it laid its hand on the hillside. The clear blue sky became overlapped by the entrance of gray clouds. The clouds overlapped with each other, making the sky a gloomy gray. He closed his eyes as he desired to be apart of autumn, surrounded by the magnificent beauty of nature.

 _It's only natural to do things when you love someone._

He opened his eyes as if someone whispered to him. He looked around, but the eyes of his peers were on their notebooks. Something was in the atmosphere along with autumn, and something was telling him that it was here to stay.


	2. A Spring Chicken in Autumn

The school bell chimed for the final time as school was dismissed for the day. The courtyard became active once again as students exited the building to do their various activities. From afar, there were a group of cheerleaders practicing their routine for the upcoming soccer game. There were a group of students from the kendo club, dressed in their traditional attire, walking toward the gymnasium. There were other students leaving the courtyard either heading home by train or bus. Some are being picked up by their parents or their chauffeurs in their luxurious vehicles. In front of the school's entrance, there were a group of students planning for something to do. Regardless of what plans the students have, it was in contrast on what the loner Taro Yamada planned.

He sat underneath the cherry blossom tree as the students were carrying on with their activities. On any given day, he would just go home. However, he decided that he wanted to stay after. He wanted to soak in the afternoon sun and be at peace with his dear autumn. This particular autumn day had Taro's spirits soaring beyond the colorful trees above. The brilliant shafts of sunlight caress the carpet of reds and golds before him, laid out like a carpet for a royal. Each breath of fresh air filled him with a sense of life that almost made him want to shout out loud, just to hear his voice echo amidst the trees; which is a fair contrast to his personality. This cherry blossom tree was very dear to him along with his fountain. To Taro, the cherry blossom tree was the grandeur, the main highlight of his school. The many of times he had spent under the tree that the rough-barked beauties were like his loyal acquaintances. If he could, he would hug if there weren't so many of his classmates about.

With his back against the tree, he pulled out his book of poems and began reading another chapter. He relaxed under the sounds of the wind, the birds, and the words of wisdom of Maya Angelou. It was too bad that his bubble would pop when a certain childhood friend came to interrupt his session.

"I would have figured that you would have stay behind. Trying to act cool under this tree, you baka," said Osana as Taro looked up at her. Taro gradually looked from her expensive black shoes to her salmon pink stockings with white polka dots to her face with her usually trademark expression of smugness. By now, he should have been used to her personality. However, through the shadows, she looked like a different creature. From that particular angle, Osana was very decent looking, at least that is what he thought. Her creamy complexion can tell him that she took care of herself. He smelled a faint scent of shampoo coming from her hair. Why was being particular to details about her today? Osana was right, he thought, he had spent too long at school.

"Why are gawking at me, you pervert," asked Osana. She placed her hands on her hips. Taro sighed because he knew he just entered one of her tirades. "You better be lucky that we are childhood friends, or else I would have knock you in the middle of next week."

"With your flimsy, pampered hands, you couldn't if you tried," murmured Taro under his breath.

"What was that," asked Osana with a rebuttal. "Nothing, nothing," responded Taro. He wanted to end the conversation so that he could return and read his book. However, Osana went to the tree and sat next to him. She sat enough to give him space, but still at a close proximity that still made Taro uncomfortable. Osana knew about Taro's issues with space, but didn't care.

"I am surprised that you are still here after school," said Taro. "I am, myself," said she said. "I was planning to leave until I saw an annoyance messing with my space. I decided that the annoyance needed taken care of."

"Aren't you a pillar to the community," responded Taro as he peered back to his book.

"You sure love to read, Taro," said Osana as she looked over his book. "You waste so much time by reading. If you go look for girlfriend and pop your cherry, then you won't have to be such a baka."

 _At least when I do read a book, I don't have to worry about it talking back to me in such a cruel manner_ , he thought to himself. If he had the confidence to speak his true feelings instead of suppressing it, then handling the rambunctious Osana Najimi could have sufficed.

"I read, Osana, because it gives me something to do," said Taro as he closed his book. He knew he won't be reading any further since she was around. "I enjoy it. It brings me life. I like it so much so that I have began writing. Hopefully, it might be something I might pursue after high school."

Osana sort of grin with his previous statement. "With your grades, good luck. You still can't manage to do a decent job in English class, baka."

"Practice make perfect," responded Taro. "At least I can speak English without being tie-tongued."

"How dare you, Taro," stammered Osana. "It's hard, but at least my grades are better in it than yours."

"Grades wouldn't matter when time for final examinations. If you want to go to school overseas, I suggest you pick something up to practice. At least read it to see if it is in English," said Taro. He sort of chuckled. In fact, he was surprised to his consistency of quips towards Osana. In the past, he would normally accept the comments she would say about him. Unsure of the certainty, he was sure not in regret.

"Very funny, you baka," she said. "You win this round, for now."

"I actually win a round? Yay me," said Taro sarcastically. After a moment, the pair were silent for a few minutes. They can hear the sound of baseball players practicing. They could hear the sounds of the cheerleaders practicing their routine. A student on a bicycle would pass from time to time. Taro looked slightly at Osana as she stared directly at the courtyard in front of them. Taro noticed the nape of her neck and saw sweat dripping from there. The musk of her fragrance impacted his nostrils. It was quite appealing.

"I got a question to ask you, Taro," said Osana as she turned in his direction. "Have you ever heard about the legend of this cherry tree?"

"Marcus mentioned to me about it, but I didn't give it much thought," he responded. Truthfully, he knew about the legend of the cherry tree. The entire school was aware of the legend of the cherry tree. He first heard about it when he came to the high school on tour a couple of years ago.

"They say that if you confess to the one you love under this tree on a Friday, then the person would become your love," said Osana as she placed her knees together and sat her chin on her arm.

"Yeah, Marcus did say something about that, but I don't really believe in it," said Taro. "It is just superstition to me."

"But imagine if it was real," said Osana. "Imagine what if you did confess to your crush, right here, right now, and if it were a Friday, what would you do?"

"What would I do," he asked aloud. He placed his finger on cheek as he thought about it. Taro wasn't considered popular with the ladies. There have been a few in his adolescence, but all were momentarily.

"I will be scared. It will be weird. Especially if it is a girl I really like," said Taro. He was honest with his statement, citing that he wouldn't know what to do for his inexperience with women. He has yet to have his first kiss, officially that was. Technically, his first kiss was with the devil herself, Osana Najimi. There were in the fourth grade and they were in the PE shed with other classmates. In a game of truth or dare, he was dared by the girls to kiss Osana. On a whim, he lightly pecked Osana with his lips. Embarrassed, Osana slapped him, knocking him to the floor and walked out of the shed in anger. That was the first time he witnessed heaven and hell at the same time.

"Don't you want to be with someone that you can love," asked Osana. Taro noticed that she nudged closer to him. "You will have to know the feeling one day. Unless you plan to be a virgin forever." She laughed and slapped him on the back.

 _You have been very concern about my love life. I kind of wish you could get off of it, please,_ he thought. "I do believe in happy endings. I want people to find love. Only when they think it is their time. I don't think you need some silly tree as a prompt to confess your feelings. It's all superstition. That is all."

"Know what, baka," said Osana as she stood up. "You're right. It is all but superstition. I was just testing you is all. It isn't like I wanted to ask you of all people. You were just there, that's all. Well, it is time for me to go home. Later, you baka."

"See you tomorrow, you crazy case," said Taro as he waved Osana goodbye. He watched her as she left the school and disappeared from the horizon.

Meanwhile, he was trying his hardest to explain to himself on his moment of weakness with Osana. _Why was I feeling some kind of way for Osana. There is something in the air aside from autumn. She is my friend, sort of, but I don't want to have that kind of relationship with her. Plus, my sister would kill me if she knew that I was interested in someone_.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was time to leave school. He picked up his materials and exited the school grounds. He stopped at the bus stop and took a seat on the bench to wait for his bus. Instead of heading home, he was getting ready to head to work at the bookstore where he will be working as a clerk.

About a year ago, his father was involved in a car collision that left him paralyzed from the waist time. Because of the severity of his injuries, his father could no longer work at the office and was placed on disability. Because of that, Taro's younger sister had to leave the private school that he also attended and went to public school. Fortunately, his mother was promoted to assistant manager at the supermarket and began to bring in more funds. However, it required her to work long hours.

To make matters worse, the doctor bills along with his outpatient treatment were out of their budget. To alleviate trouble, they sold their family car to pay for part of the doctor bills. They have borrowed money through family and friends. What was heartbreaking, especially for Taro's parents, was that Taro sold his prized baseball cards to help his father. _If you suffer, I suffer. You are my father. I promise to take care of you. This is for the sake of our future. No need to cry, dad. We will get through this. God will keep us in our home and I will finish school. So don't worry._

On his own volition, Taro decided to get a job for extra income. What better place to find a job than to find a place that sells books? There was a local bookstore in the atrium of the town's garden district. The bookstore was very popular and attracted a large crowd. The manager of the store was familiar with Taro as he frequented the establishment and decided to give him a chance.

About an half hour later, Taro exited the bus and headed for the garden district. By that time, the sun was the below the horizon. The sun's warmth was dissipated and the coolness of the autumn sky filled the void. He reached into his backpack to retrieve his red scarf. It was a present he received from his grandmother when he was child. She passed away when he was 14. He continued to treasure the scarf as it was something to keep her memory alive.

The cling of the bell alerted the another visitor had arrived at the bookstore. Although it was a second hand store, the treasure trove of collection of history, regardless of any era could be found.

The dimmed lighting of the bookstore gave it a private affair for readers to enjoy their pursuit of knowledge. The wonderful sound of jazz made the quaint, quiet bookstore a more welcoming spot.

At the counter was an old woman, not the kind that should be pitied with their old bones and feeble limbs, but the kind who could still run an army kitchen if given a chance. She stood quite tall and slim. Her short grey hair, neat and likely styled with old-fashioned rollers, the kind women used to sleep in. Her face was made up with discrete make-up except her that her lips were cherry red. If she were any paler, then her mouth would be garish, but against her sun-kissed skin, it looked right. When she extend her hand to shake Taro, he could see the soil beneath her fingernails. A gardener, he concluded. Then he noticed her neck scarf, patterned with small roses. It was safe to say that she has one of the best gardens in her neighborhood.

"Aw, welcome Taro," said the gentle voiced older woman, "Glad you could make it." She reached from behind the counter and gave him an apron. Attached to the apron was a nametag with his name on it. The nametag gave him a boost of confidence that he actually belonged to a team.

"Once you get yourself together," said the woman, "We have a new list of shipments that came in today."

"Yes, ma'am," said Taro as he went to the direction she pointed her fingers to.

Taro entered the backroom where they keep their extra stock of books and other materials. When he found the boxes she desired, he grabbed them and walked back to the opening to put them in their proper selves.

"Oh dear," she responded to Taro. "Don't be alarmed with the presentation of these books. These belong in our special area." She had a slight chuckle. Taro could see it vibrate through her wrinkled lips. Fearing the worst and much to his chagrin, he opened the books and saw that it did belong in the special area-erotica.

Her slight chuckle turned into a loud one as customer speculate on the commotion between the boss and the employee. "Such nubile you are, my dear," said the woman. "Now, you must work. You have plenty to do, you spring chicken."

Taro carried the first box and went through the bookstore to find the section. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, color coded with dots. The fiction area was arranged in alphabetical order. The young adults section was labeled with pictures of their authors. There was a special area for manga for the youth. The children's section featured low shelves and floor cushions. The floor cushions were the bookstore's greatest highlight. Young and old alike loves to comfort themselves on the floor while reading a good book.

When arriving to the special area, the many graphic images of the book covers lit his eyes. From fictional erotica to the cover of hentai, Taro did his harvest to avert his eyes. Osana and his boss were right. He was nubile, naive, and a spring chicken when he came to sex. Taro was interested in the opposite sex, but couldn't imagine of doing any sexual with him. The closest of sexual content he witnessed was when he was in sexual education class in the seventh grade. Even then, he covered his eyes through the "grotesque parts." Even with masturbation, he found that as an issue, but that will be something he would have think about another time.

As he finished bundling the first box of the erotica novels, from his periphial was the sight of sheer beauty. She wore a black business suit. Her firm legs were exposed in front of him. She wasn't wearing any stockings, so he could see every detail of her soft and creamy skin. It was white like milk, which happened to be his favorite kind of complexion. As he looked up, he saw the stunning attractive brunette who happened to be his new Japanese and homeroom teacher.

"Well, I could never imagine running into one of my students here, would I," she said with firm voice. Taro felt every syllable that escaped from her soft lips. Something about that voice was alluring and appealing. It was his teacher, Mitsuko Takahashi.

 _It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

The thought hit him again. It was strange. He wasn't familiar with those words, but he felt that there was a reason if they are once again entering his consciousness.

"Are you okay," asked Takahashi-sensei

"Yeah I am," replied Taro.

"You are Taro Yamada, correct," asked Takahashi-sensei.

"Yes," he said. "I am in your homeroom and in your Japanese class."

"Oh, that's right," she answered as she picked out one of those books from the special area. "I didn't think they would allow young boys like you to doing these kinds of jobs. It is bad for the brain."

"It's not really it," said Taro. "The guy who normally does this is out skin and it is just me and my boss tonight."

"Oh," she responded with a slight chuckle. "I guess that you get a pass for now, Mr. Yamada."

He swallowed a lump. Was she flirting with him or was she just being funny with him. Regardless of what impact, he slightly got scared and aroused by the encounter. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "What brings you here to the bookstore, Takahashi-sensei?"

"I am new in town and I am quite an avid reader," said Takahashi-sensei. "When one of the teachers told me about this place, I decided to check it out for myself."

 _She is an avid reader like myself. I have something in common with my teacher._

"You'll like it," Taro responded with a hint of excitement. "I have come here for awhile. I love to read many books, especially with poetry."

"I love poetry, myself, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei. "Something about rhythms and flows can be alluring and beautiful. Could you agree, Mr. Yamada?"

"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Taro. "Reading became such a passion since I went to see one of these poets on a field trip a couple of years back. She was such a lovely person and she spoke so well. It felt like she was speaking to my soul."

"Really now," asked Takahashi-sensei. "Could you care to spare me a few lines of that special poem?"

"Sure," he answered. He recited:

 _An autumn gust blows_

 _Chilling the air and blowing_

 _The clouds and the trees_

 _The leaves blow away_

 _In a final flight they dance_

 _Beautiful yet dead_

"Is it cruel or is it kind that the leaves never truly do perceive their flight," said Takahashi-sensei as she completed the poem for him.

"Yes, how did you know," said Taro. He looked at her again. He finally realized that was the very woman who recited the poem back on his field trip.

"You are her, aren't you," he said with excitement. "Why didn't see that before. You are the poet from the forum back then. But your name was different."

"It was a pen name," she said. "Mitsuko Takahashi is my given name. I went by the alias in order to separate myself from my other being.

"Oh, I see," responded Taro as he blushed and reveled at the fact that one of his favorite poem was written by his now teacher.

"I must say, Mr. Yamada," she said, "You have great taste in poetry. Why don't we get together after school tomorrow and I can help you find some better selections. I have quite a selection at my desk. They would _whet_ your appetite."

"I would be honored, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro.

"Good," she said with a smile. "I will let you get back to work. And by the way, Mr. Yamada. Spring chickens should not be reading that kind of dirty material. Understand?" She said that with a wink and left the bookstore.

He returned to the backroom to retrieve the other box of shipments. He was still in the afterglow of meeting one of his favorite poets. He felt that this senior year was going to be hopeful than he could imagine, or so he thought.


	3. Nothing Else Could Compare

He closed his notebook as he completed his homework. He placed it in his backpack and put it beside his desk. His homework was done for the evening and now, the tiresome Taro could finally rest. It was his first week on the job and already he wanted to quit. It was outside of his routine and he was quickly aware that the time at work would interfere with his homework schedule. It was not that he was a honor student, but he believed in modesty with his academics. He concluded that he was not going to a top national university like Osaka or the University of Tokyo. He definitely knew was he didn't have any chances of attending Keio University. It still didn't mean that Taro would go to any second-rate college. Remembering back to the day of his acceptance to the high school, he promised his parents that he would try his hardest to find the best college in Japan.

He rested his elbow on his desk. His room smelled of fresh magnolias that his mother got from the supermarket that she worked. His mother enjoyed nature. Raised in her native Kyoto, she was inept from the beginning to love nature. Every week, she would filled their rooms with scented flowers to give her family a feeling of tranquility. Taro, honestly, felt indifferent. Nonetheless, he was happy that his mother was feeling fine for a change; especially after the car wreck of his father.

He turned around as he cracked his knuckles. It brought such relief to his joints as he faced his small, but cozy room. The room contained a small bed, neatly made. It had two straight backed chairs; one for hanging his uniform and the other for company. There were no curtains on his windows and there were no pictures on the wall. However, on his bedpost was a mural, a tree with every color of fall leaf imaginable and few more beside his window. With the scented magnolias on the mantle by the window, it gave his room an atmosphere of tranquility and solace; something that Taro wanted and acquired in his life.

With his homework completed, he had time to read one of the poems that his acquaintance Marcus let him borrow. Along with African American literature, Taro was also interested in Western literature. He sat on his small, delicate quilted bed and read a piece by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As he read, there was one particular part of the passage that caught his interest. When explaining interest, it was not something that made him excited, but it was something of curiosity.

 _Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended_

 _So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;_

 _Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;_

 _Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;_

 _And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,_

 _Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!_

The passage sent a shiver down his spine. It spoke to him like a whisper in the wind. His heart began to beat loudly as he was trying to keep his composure.

 _It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

It happened again, he thought. Just then, a ringing sound came from his ear. It was loud and was very impactive to the now worried Taro as he started to feel ill. He left his bed and was heading for the door until he began staggering. His hands were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and began sensing the hot, wetness coming from his nose. He knew it and feared for the worse. He was having the "attack."

His first memory of his "attack" was when he was the third grade. At the time, he was living in his father's hometown of Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu. As a young child, the elders that lived on the edge of town surrounding the forest told him and many young children to stay away from the forest. It was rumored that there were ghost that inhabited there and if any stranger, especially a young child, went into the forest, then the ghost would claim its soul. Taro knew about the legend as it was his grandfather who was one of the elders who claim the village on the outskirts of the town home. Rather if it was self-proclaimed or entitled, but his grandfather was a guardian to keep the spirits and the human apart from each other.

One evening, Taro broke the promise of his father and grandfather and walked into the forest. He did not want to go. It was a dare from a couple of the schoolchildren. They questioned his fear as they cornered him in the hallway that fateful afternoon at his school. They told him that if he was not afraid, then he would go to the shrine in the center of the forest and get an artifact from there. No longer wanting to be an outcast of his peer, the young, nubile Taro made his venture into the forbidden forest.

He was in the forest. The forest was ancient. The trees were thick and old and the roots were twisted. It might had once have been filled with birdsongs and animals that roamed, but it was now in the former ages of its glory. The lushness of vegetation on the tree was so dense that only any occasional streak of sunlight barely touch the forest floor. Even its thick vines were slowly taking away the last remnants of the shrine that stood in the center.

The leaves crackled like sandpaper as he took each step to the forbidden shrine. According to his classmates, it was legend that if he took an artifact from the shrine, it will bring him good luck. Not obliged with good luck, but don't want to be a laughing stock to his peers, he swallowed his pride and fear, he made his way. Each step was loud and creaky. It was very sorrowful with each step as if they were warning him to turn back while he still can. Ignoring its sound, he entered into its main area.

This "attack" was a long one. When Taro came to, he found himself on the floor. Taro closed his eyes, covered his mouth with a tissue, and gritted his teeth. He had no idea on how long was he out. Minutes? Hours? Seconds? He felt nauseated, more fatigued as he staggered from the floor to rest his head on the bed. These "attacks" happened from time to time. The doctors were unsure on what was the cause of it. Despite attending hypnotherapy sessions and speaking with psychiatrists, it was to no avail. He knew that it worried his family, especially his sister. She once mentioned that she had a friend that passed away from a seizure. Although unrelated with one another, the fear of losing someone close to her scared his sister, and it made her all the more closer to him. He wanted his mind to wake up, to get back in focus. But he knew that it would take time before his body would returned to normal.

Just then, he heard his cell phone rang. As it vibrated on his nightstand, he wondered on who could it be? He hardly received any calls, and especially that late into the evening. On the third ring, he picked up the phone and out from the receiver was the sound of woman with her voiced cracked.

"Hello," said the girl, "Are you there, Taro. It is me, Kokona."

He sat up to readjust himself. He did not want to give her the impression that something was wrong. He cleared his voice and wiped the blood from his nose. He did his best to remain calm as he talked to another acquaintance.

"Hey, Kokona," said Taro, "what's going on?"

"I'm okay," said Kokona, "I didn't call this late, did I? I am sorry."

"No, you're fine, Kokona," said Taro, reassuring her that she was fine, but very surprised. "It is just that I am surprised that you are calling me this late."

Taro looked at the clock and it was a quarter past nine in the evening. Around this time, Taro would prepare to head to bed. However, since his new work schedule, he had to push his bedtime back. He yawned as he continued to talk with Kokona.

"I am sorry once again," she said. Taro could imagine her bowing over the telephone. "It is just that. It is just, oh well it is nothing." Taro could tell by the sound of her voice that she was lying.

"Look, Kokona," said Taro, "If you feel that you can't talk over the phone, do you want to meet elsewhere?"

"Yes," she said quickly that Taro felt her vibration from the receiver. "Want to meet at the usual spot?"

"That's cool," said Taro. Taro looked at his watch and thought he could spare some time. "I will be out in 10. Is that cool?"

"Okay," she said before hanging up the phone.

Eight minutes later, Taro stepped out of his apartment and entered the foyer where the elevator was located. Normally, he would take the stairs to get to the destination. But, at this particular juncture, he was expecting a guest.

She and Taro were neighbors. She lived on the eighth floor whereas he lived on the second floor. She and Taro became neighbors after he moved to the complex nearly eight months ago. The abundance of medical treatment and payments for his father caused them to foreclose their home. Since then, they have live at the apartment complex.

He heard the sound of the bell, followed by the speaker of "second floor." The door opened and out came a young woman that looked close to Taro's age. She had light purple spiky bangs that accompanied her drill pigtails. Her eyes were light purple. She had beautiful fair skin and had a very large bust size, which was a burden to her and a blessing to the men and envious women.

She was sporting an athletic sweatshirt and mini-skirt with black leggings. It appeared to she was going to more of a causal date that was in contrast to what Taro was wearing. He was sporting a white t-shirt with blue jeans. Although the weather was cool, he liked the feeling of the coolness exposed to his skin. Without saying a word, he walked inside of the elevator and it closed behind him.

The tiny cafe huddled despondent among the the huge apartment buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle. On the busiest of evenings, hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The few customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of the cool wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the cafe was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new, but familiar entrants and the cold breeze was forgotten.

The waitress greeted the pair as they were placed in a booth. She held her pad to take their order looked like the kind who knew the trick of the trade of the restaurant business. She was older. She had gray hair with a hint of brown. Her eyes were her highlight. It was a deep shade of a green like a deep, enchanted pool. She politely asked them of their order. Taro asked for two coffees. He wanted his black and Kokona, with cream and two sugars. He quietly thanked her as she walked to get his order. Neither of the duo were avid coffee drinkers, but something about drinking it gave them an edge of their budding adulthood.

The pair met eyes, but neither had yet to speak. It became routine as he did this with her whenever they meet at the cafe. When the pair were at school, they spoke in passing; with Kokona doing more of the speaking and Taro waving or passing her a glance. Kokona Haruka was a social butterfly at their school. She was very friendly and vibed with everyone, regardless of social hierarchy.

At eighteen years old, the young Kokona has experience a great deal of trials and tribulations. At the age of 8, she lost her mother to cancer. In the same year, she lost her grandmother to suicide as she was distraught from never accepting her daughter's death. Since her mother's death, her father became an alcoholic, causing him to forgo his parental value. She went into foster care when she was 10 and was in-and-out of group homes because of her wild behavior.

It was until she was 16 when she was able to return to her father. Her father, then sober and employed, did what he could to get his daughter back in line. Despite rebelling against his stern nature, she eventually gave in. Her behavior have changed and shifted for the better. It wasn't until her father became involved with a woman who turned out to be swindler. The woman robbed her father and drained all of his savings. Once again, he turned to the bottle for his comfort.

Because of her father's return to alcoholism, she resorted to measures that she felt she had no other choice. It was rumored that she was involved in compensation dating, an ongoing trend to young girls in Japan. Because of her involvement, it is said that she go on dates with older men and exchanged her used panties for cash or gifts. Then has been rumors that she has engaged in sex. She has neither denied it or confirmed it. However, the only people who knew of this was her best friend, Saki Miyu and Taro.

On one conversation, she openly admitted to being involved with compensation dating to help her father with debts. She doesn't enjoy those activities, but she knew it was the fastest way of helping her father. Taro didn't judge her for he felt she had to do whatever was necessary for her sake. _I'm not God and I am neither a judge or a jury. Everybody has a stone,_ he once told her in a conversation.

On these few occasions, Taro was looked upon by Kokona as a shoulder buddy. She needed someone to listen to her without feeling judged or criticized. He didn't feel he was a suitable person to come for advice, but he was always available when he felt she needed support.

"Here are your coffees, kids," responded the waitress as she put the coffees on the table. They both bowed as the waitress excused herself. Taro took the coffee and drank as the warmth soothe him. Once he finished drinking, he was ready to talk.

"Okay, Kokona, let's talk," said Taro as if he was preparing business. Kokona took another sip with her coffee before putting it back on the table. She used the spoon to stir her coffee. Taro knew that she would only do that when she has something heavy on her chest.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice," said Kokona.

"No worries," said Taro, "I am here to do whatever I can to help."

"You have always been a helpful person, senpai," said Kokona, "That is why I come to you."

Taro was used to being called _senpai_ by his younger peers. It was weird when hearing it from students of the same grade. She was not the person to refer him by that name. With many people calling him that that it became sort of a nickname. It didn't matter to him because he rather to be known as senpai than anything that was vulgar.

She pressed her nails into her skin. She had a smug look on her face. Taro could tell that she was afraid to talk. "Take your time. There is no rush for me to know. If not, then later. Until then, we can relax and drink our coffee." He believed in structure when talking to people. Don't rush your words or your thoughts, he thought. He believed in rationality over emotions because emotional decisions could be damning, at least that was what he thought.

"I am afraid that my father might be deeper than what he is letting on," she said. "I fear that my father might be in debt with some loan sharks from the yakuza."

"The yakuza," asked Taro. He was a bit puzzled by the response. There was a small gang presence in the town, but most of them were lowlifes and delinquents. The likeability of her father being involved in the yakuza was little to none. Unless, he was involved in some serious gambling.

"What makes you think that your father was involved in such a group," asked Taro.

"Well, the other day as I headed home, a black sedan was following me," she said. "I kept walking a few blocks and it was slowly creeping on me. I got scared that I ran until I got to my apartment. I locked the door until my dad came home."

"That is scary," responded Taro. He looked at Kokona's face as her face furrowed, showing wrinkles. "What did your father have to say?"

"What could he say," said Kokona as she sip another drink of coffee. "Half the time, he is pissed drunk on the floor or the other, he would be at pachinko clubs pissing our savings."

Kokona looked around the cafe to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "I am seeing strange men outside of the complex."

Taro agreed with Kokona. Since the entertainment district has been expanded outward to their neighborhood, there have been people scouring the place looking for "talent."

"Last night, when I came home from my 'thing,' I was met by two people who were waiting outside of the elevator," said Kokona. "They asked me if Yuusuke was my father. I told them no as I went in the elevator. Thank God I prayed because I was fearful that they would do something bad to me."

Kokona has kept a tough demeanor. Although she was sensitive, she was far from weak. On her best days, she would verbally attack someone instantly. She was not much of a fighter, but she took self-defense class. She even kept a bottle of pepper spray around her waist.

"This is getting scary and it worries me, Taro," said Kokona with her pleading eyes. "What do you I should do? Should I involve the police? Should I involve my father?"

Taro reached for the coffee and saw that the cup was empty. He knew exactly how the cup felt: empty. He did not what to do to help her. If it were up to him, he wish he didn't get involved. However, going against his nature, he needed to be solution oriented.

"First, I wouldn't jump to conclusions on what if your father is getting involved in such a group like the yakuza," said Taro. "You should be concerned about his alcoholism and his gambling. He needs to get some help. Both vices are harmful and effects could be irreversible if not careful. He needs to take top priority and that is raising you."

He exhaled through his nose as he continued. "I am not going to judge on any factor on what goes on in your life because I am not God. But, it is best that you and your father need to address the issues on both ends. His problems and your situation with you-know-what."

Kokona swallowed nothing for she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You have been through a lot. I think you two need to remind yourselves of staying positive and sticking together. Think about the future," said Taro.

"That is why I like you, senpai," said Kokona, "You always know what to say. You tell it like it is."

 _Not always, Kokona, not always._ He mind focused on a bedeviled childhood friend.

As they made their way back to the apartment complex, Kokona wrapped her arms around Taro. Taro smelled her cheap perfume, which he didn't like. But her shampoo was compensating the scent. "It is amazing, senpai, that you have a great ideology on life. You should be a professor, or something."

"Not really, but I do what to be involved in something riveting," said Taro.

"Like what," asked Kokona.

"I don't know," replied Taro.

"As smart as you are, senpai, you will find something," said Kokona.

It was not long until he was in front of Kokona's apartment door. Before he departed, she grabbed him by his arm. "Thanks, senpai, for everything."

"Don't mention it, Kokona," he said. "If worse comes to worse, you can spend the night at my house, if you like."

"I might take you up on your offer," she said. She waved him goodbye and closed the door.

Taro appreciated and valued Kokona's acquaintanceship, but she could be a handful. The problem he felt Kokona had was that she allowed others to influence her. Having a lot of friends doesn't mean it was a good thing. Having everyone to have an availability on one's life can become very fatal, socially. He was grateful that Kokona had some decency to keep her private life where it belong. If the school knew of her secret life, then he knew she would be targeted the boys at school. At private schools like his, a reputation is a reputation for years to come. There was no some such thing as a clean slate. The past included the present and the future. That was why Taro did his best to stay out of the loop. Once in his astronomy class, he was asked if he were a planet, where would he belong. He told him Pluto. It was out of the way and no longer a planet.

He made his way back into the apartment when he received a phone call. It was an unfamiliar number. When he answered, it was the voice of his homeroom teacher.

"Good evening," responded Takahashi-sensei, "Is this the number of Taro Yamada?"

"Yes ma'am," said Taro, "This is he."

"Good evening, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei, "Sorry for calling so late. Is this a good time?"

"No ma'am, you are fine," said Taro.

Taro has never felt this kind of excitement before. This was a new feeling that he was doing his hardest to become familiar. It was not everyday that his favorite poet was his teacher and now she was on the phone with him.

"Good," she said. "I am coming about tomorrow's meeting. It has been changed."

"Changed," he asked. He feared that the meeting may not happened. He was whisper a prayer in hopes that he could have a moment with Takahashi-sensei.

"Yes, Mr. Yamada," she said. "You see, the school decided to get pest control on the same time we supposed to meet. So I am unable to meet you there."

"Oh, okay," he said, trying his hardest to keep the sound of disappointment from his voice.

"However, I still want to meet with you," she said. "How do you feel if we talk over dinner?"

"Dinner? I would love to," said Taro. Taro was filled with excitement. So much so, he nearly dropped his phone. "Dinner? We can do that."

"Good, I am glad," said Takahashi-sensei. "I am in the mood for Italian. There is a spot that sells some of the best rotini in town. I think we can share Italian and poetry together. How does that sound?"

"Great," said Taro. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she concurred. "I will come and pick you up from your place around 6."

"6 o'clock," he said. "See you then."

"See you then, my spring chicken," said Takahashi-sensei before hanging up.


	4. The Nearness of You (Part I)

Taro's first memory dated back when he was two years old. His mother was sitting on her rocking chair. His mother used that rocking chair when she wanted moments for herself. That cedar chair was a wedding gift that her mother received from her father. He had it shipped from Singapore where he was stationed during World War II. He remembered how his mother would rest her eyes and move with the rocking of the chair. With each stroke of the shifts, it became a rhythm that even Taro made a beat with his hands to match the rhythm. Beside the rocking chair was a mantle where she had her record player. The record player she brought while she was a student in America came along with a treasure trove of music from various of genres.

Taro's mother had a precocious taste in music, which she stated that her mother and her mother's mother had. Whenever she had free time or wanted a stress reliever, she would put on a record. Taro remembered one particular record that caught his interest once he heard the sound of the needle drop onto the record.

 _Stars shining bright above you_

 _Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you_

 _Birds singin' in the sycamore trees_

 _Dream a little dream of me_

With his inability of understanding English at the time, he, however, became entranced to the woman's vocal. The way she sang he thought came from the heart. Like a classical lullaby, he swinged his head and went along with the tune. He crawled to the record player and sat beside it as he was caught in the serenade of the gifted musical siren.

'Oh, I see that my little one is loving my Ella Fitzgerald record,' said his mother as she patted her hand on her lap. The young Taro knew that it was their signal to have their mother and son bonding. He climbed onto her lap to where he and his mother sat together and enjoyed the soothing sounds of Ella Fitzgerald.

Taro's newly found passion for poetry and books doesn't compare to his first love, music. Since the early days of Ella Fitzgerald, Taro took a great interest in American music. His mother had a record collection stored in the attic. Her versatility of music gave Taro an opportunity to expand his musical interest. He became more adapted to the music of the sixties. He always imagined living in an era of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, or the Beatles. Although his mother wasn't raised in that era, she collected through second hand record shop during her vacation to New York's Greenwich Square and Chelsea.

Blowing the dust off of the records became alive as Taro sat in his bedroom listening to the records. Any time he felt stress, excitement, anger, love, or embarrassment, he would be in his bedroom listening to music. It was more apparent when he was in middle school. It was around that time when he accepted his personality was atypical to his peers and became a loner. However, in a way, he was not lonely. He had his music and begrudgingly, he had Osana.

Osana Najimi was born and raised in this town. Her family had lived here for many generations. Her father stated that allegedly his family were the original pioneers of the town after relocating from the colony of Edo. Her father worked in a large brokerage firm and was also involved in politics. He had unsuccessfully ran for mayor on multiple occasions before settling for being a neighborhood representative. Her mother was a typical housewife. She was the kind that was modeled after the wives of the Showa era. She was devoted to her husband and her family. She was the individual who knew her place without contesting it.

Taro and Osana met when he transferred to her school in the third grade. Since she was a few months older than Taro and according to her rules in determining seniority, that made her the boss and his senpai. Not only were they classmates, they were also neighbors; living next door to each other in neat little rows that faced south of the town's business district and about a half a mile away from the river. Although some row houses were bigger than others, it had the similar distinction of entranceways, pine trees in the garden, and the single car driveway. Taro distinctly remembered how old-fashioned Osana's house was due to having a large fish pond and some old stone lanterns.

Osana was a large girl, who was taller than Taro, with striking features. Even Taro knew when Osana grew up, she would become a gorgeous woman. However, her striking outer features contrasted her inner qualities. It gave her an unbalance because of her hostile attitude toward others, especially to Taro. Adopted as the school beauty, she had taken the role seriously and felt invincible; needing no one to confirm her beauty. She was quite desirable and quite untouchable, using the latter euphemistically.

After a while, especially at the beginning of fifth grade, the role of school beauty soon faded away when an equally attracted girl entered the school. With the new girl's inner qualities matched her outer as a beautiful and honest girl, the days of popularity for Osana were now an aberration.

Nevertheless, Taro was the only person and friend who had stuck around her. Taro has yet to answer on why did he stay friends with her for as long as he did. She was very rude and acted harsh around Taro at any moment's notice. Many of their classmates had criticized her on how poorly she treated Taro. But, each and every time, Taro came to her defense. He believed that they were friends for so long because they knew how empty they both were. He thought about her unbalance and understood it because he as well know the feeling.

Taro had yet to find his spot in the world as he felt the void opening further and further each day. Although he had his music, but it wasn't enough to suffice it until he could figure out his purpose.

As they were neighbors, they both walked home together every day after school. As a natural conversationalist, Osana would talk about everything. Honestly, they were more of complaints than the usual topic of a typical preteen. Taro, as always, stayed quiet and played the role of the traveling therapist about whatever went on Osana's mind. As much he wanted to express his true feelings to Osana, he remained silent and hid behind his bangs as they made it to their homes. She would wave goodbye and the whole process repeat all over again.

Their relationship grew as they entered middle school. They have different homerooms, but she ordered Taro to wait for her at the school's entrance before departing for the day. As they walked home, she talked about the subjects she liked or hated; what boy had a crush on her; the dislike of her teachers; trying out for the student council; and the like. Like always, Taro remained quiet and let her talk until they made their way to their homes. She would wave goodbye and the whole process repeated the next day.

It wasn't until they were in the eighth grade while Taro and Osana walked the three mile stretch of dirt road home until she just stopped. As Taro kept walking, she pulled him by the hand. Taro would never forget how flushed she was; red like a tomato. Her eyes were glazed and her hands were wrapped in a fist. Taro knew she had a rough personality, but never once had she displayed any other emotion.

'If you want to stop being friends with me, then just say,' said Osana as she looked away from him.

'What are you talking about,' asked Taro as he was confused in her questioning.

'If you are friends with me because you feel sorry for me, then just stop it,' she said. Her face was flushed a deep beet red. Her eyes were watering. Taro could feel the heat from where he wa standing. 'I don't have to be around people if all they do is just let me talk. I can be fine by myself.'

Taro was silent. He honestly did not know what to say. Although he wish that Osana complained less, he never looked at their friendship as conditional.

'You don't have to feel sorry for me. You don't have to stay friends with me,' said Osana as tears stemmed from her eyes. Why so much repetition of words, Taro thought. As he saw her tear-stained face and it dripped to her uniform. It was the first time that he had witnessed Osana having another emotion-sadness.

Taro cautiously walked up to her. He took her by the hand, but it was quickly snatched away. She turned around so that she didn't have to look at him. 'Just go away, you baka. Go away and let me be.'

'No,' said Taro very firmly and sternly. Surprised by his sense of sternness and assertiveness, he went behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Taro pressed his forehead against her back as he continued to wrap his arms tightly around her waist.

'Let me go, you baka, let me go,' she said as she struggled. She repeatedly protested and struggled to get off of Taro, but he refused to let her go. She managed as much as she could before going to her knees and begin sobbing. 'Let me go, you baka,' she said in between sobs. 'Leave me like everybody else.'

Taro discovered something that day about Osana. Osana consciously wrapped herself in a protective shell. She shielded herself from others by acting the way she did. If there something she did not like, she quickly alert it. If there was food she didn't like, she report it to the headmaster. Overall, if it was something that Taro did or just being in the room, she quickly became hostile. Those were the details that Taro discovered and decided not to go any further. Because just like Osana, he had a protective shell as well. That explained on why he stuck around with Osana. They were lost souls who have yet find a host. They were lost spirits that were looking for purpose. Until they were able to find what they were looking for, they were going to remain lost.

At least as they were embraced on the dusty road along the river, they were going to remain lost, together.

"Baka, are you there. Hello? Earth to baka. Are you there," said the rough, but gentle voice.

Taro blinked his eyes to look at his surroundings. He was not in his mother's lap or engaged in a dusty hug with Osana. He was in the classroom. It was empty. He saw the clock as he realized that school had ended for the day. He saw that Marcus Joseph and Osana were beside, awaiting his response.

"Caught up in dreamland, my friend," asked Marcus with a smirk.

"Something like that," said Taro.

"Did the dream involved you being such a idiot," asked Osana.

"No, but at least my dream was Osana-free," said Taro. "An Osana-free dream is better than having an Osana-filled nightmare." Taro kind of chuckled as Marcus laughed and Osana looked angry.

"Screw you, you baka," she said. "If you don't want to be friends with me, then say so."

"No," said Taro simply as he gathered his books and placed them into his backpack. For a second, he thought he was her eyes quickly glared. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination.

Taro looked outside to see the sun waning down as the orange clouds were in the background. He saw his watch and realized that he had to get ready for his date with Takahashi-sensei. He had just about an hour to go home and take a shower. Just in case if the dinner was going to be a poetry session, he had set aside a book of poems for conversation starters. Until this encounter, Taro was very indifferent about events. However, this was the first time in awhile that it was something he was looking forward to.

He, Marcus, and Osana were by the lockers as they exchanged their school shoes for their outdoor shoes. A group of cheerleaders passed by them as they heading to practice. From Taro's peripheral, one of the cheerleaders caught sight of Marcus and winked at him as he passed, causing Marcus to blush.

Taro turned and smiled at Marcus. "Not a word," said Marcus as he was flushed. Taro started to grin. "I told you not a word, dude," said Marcus. "I didn't say a word," said Taro, "But you never mention about having a laugh."

"As much I love this baka moment," said Osana with her hands on her hips, "What do you guys want to do?"

"I hear that there is a mixer with some of the other schools tonight at the drink bar," said Marcus as he put on his shoes. "Since there is no school tomorrow, we can hang out and mingle. We can also catch a movie or something afterwards, if no one can find a date at the mixer."

"Mixers bore me," said Osana, "But I don't mind if you and Taro go."

"Sounds like a plan," said Marcus, "Sounds good, Taro?"

"I actually can't go with you guys, sorry," said Taro as finished putting his shoes on and grabbing his backpack. "I have plans tonight and it is best to head home before I miss the train."

There was a moment of silence. Taro looked at Marcus as he could tell that he was fine. However, as he saw the look on Osana's eyes, he knew that she was going to pester him with questions. He swallowed nothing as he prepared for her bombardment.

"Hey, that's cool, man," said Marcus. "Looks like it will be me and Osana."

"Like hell I am, you baka," screamed Osana. Her eyes then set on Taro. "Where are you going that is very important?"

Taro actually did not tell Osana that he was having a dinner date with their teacher. Although the pair were usually open about their activities, but it was something that he did not want her to know. Just like the day on the road when they were in junior high, he also had a protective shell. There were some things he wanted Osana to know and some things, not so much. Having the dinner date with Takahashi-sensei was just the latter.

"It is important and I won't say much," said Taro as he walked into the square of the school. Marcus and Osana proceeded to follow him as he made it to the exit of the school.

"At least explain on where you are going," asked Osana as she followed Taro.

"I am not saying," said Taro. "Just very important."

"Osana, if it is our none of our business, then it is none of our concern," said Marcus.

"The fuck you mean it is not my business," screamed Osana. "Everything about him is business."

As she turned around, Taro was across the street on his way to the train station. Taro turned around and saw how she was screaming at Marcus. He was grateful that rush hour traffic was upon him or else he would have heard her ranting.

Taro reached the train station with a few minutes to spare. The train station was actually a subway. Nestled in the underground, it was erected a couple of years ago after the mayor's decision to convert the old train station into a new bus station.

The subway station was a seething mass of humanity. Everyone from every walk of life was shoulder to shoulder, in each other's faces, no personal space, no exceptions. When it's crowded no information could be taken about anyone, they are just things in the way. Moving, smelling, awkward, rude things. Taro loved how he was no different than the crowd. Like a pack of sardines, he watched them made their way into the tightly packed commuter train. He saw the train attendants with their whistles and white gloves displaying which line do commuters need to go.

 _The Akamatsu line is now boarding and departing in five minutes._

He looked at the platform and on the screen, he saw his train line was boarding. He did not have much time and he made haste to get to his train. He wanted to make sure that he was able to get on time for his meeting with Takahashi-sensei.

Suddenly he heard a voice. "Where are you baka? We have not finished our conversation yet."

Hearing Osana's voice irritated him as it was not the time for talk. With much urgency, he careful hid behind a crowd of office ladies as he tried to make it to his train. However, his backpack snag on the handle of the phone booth. As he struggled to manage to get backpack from the handle, he became exposed, leaving Osana to see him from a distance.

"There you are. We are not finished yet," screamed Osana as she began walking into his direction.

"I don't have time, Osana," he said as he began running. As he ran, she followed suit. His running turned into sprinting as he maneuvered through the crowd. He was in a bidding pursuit with the time running out for his train and to get away from Osana Najimi.

"Slow down, you dummy," said Osana, "Can you at least tell me where you are going?"

"Not now," said Taro as he ran down another flight of stairs to get to his train. Taro was getting exhausted. Not an athlete, opting for watching the others to work out, he regrettably desired to work out more if he knew that this was going to be a task.

 _The Akamatsu line has now boarded and departing._

Whatever strength Taro garnered, he sprinted to the platform of the station as he saw the attendants getting the last of the commuters into the subway.

 _I have to make this train. I have to make this damn train_ , he thought as he continue running. He was getting tired, his throat was getting dry. It was already difficult to run in an uniform, let alone his inactivity in sports. When he managed to get close to the train doors, a figure emerged, blind-siding him. He collide with the figure and was heading straight for the ground.

He watched in frustration and agony as the train departed without him. Instead of making the train, he made contact with the ground face first. He felt the force of the cold concrete hitting him in full force. He tried to catch his fall with his hands, but it made no avail, as those appendages too were among the causalities.

"Ouch," he said aloud. He silently cursed himself that he missed the train for his dinner date with Takahashi-sensei. He tried to rationalize his reasoning for not making it in time. _If I didn't daydreamed in class, I could have gotten there earlier_ or _If I would have cut my time short with Marcus and Osana, then I could have made it._ No matter what kind of scenarios, it didn't suffice to the fact that he did not make it.

As he managed to get up, he realized that he was atop of the figure. He quickly got up. He dusted himself off, still feeling his tender red hands from the fall. He looked over and saw that the figure was a girl.

When he realized he crashed into a girl, he bowed for an apology. "Please accept my apologies. Are you okay?"

The girl did not say a word. It appeared that she was in a trance. Her long black hair hid in front of her eyes. When she opened her eyes, it was a dark shade of gray. Once their eyes met each other, her face turned red. He, in return, became red also; mostly from embarrassment.

"I am sorry. I should have watched where I was going," said Taro as he bowed once again.

"No, it's okay." The girl said as she sat up from the platform. Taro was able to get a good look at the girl. She was very beautiful, not in a way of goddess, but the old-fashioned girl-next-door type of beautiful. He saw her uniform and realized that she attended the same high school as he did.

"Would you like a hand," said Taro as he stretched out his hand to the girl in distress. Without a word, she took his hand and managed to stand. However, she never let go of his hand. When Taro saw her eyes, he noticed how gray they were. It was very alluring and soft of macabre. Then, he also notice a red sparkle coming from her eye. It was similar to what he saw from Takahashi-sensei on the first day she arrived to class.

"Thank you so much for helping me, Taro," said the girl.

His heart was beating. He felt his eyelids twitching. He started to feel sweat vacating his pores and onto his uniform.

"How do you know my name," he asked.

The girl looked and just smiled. Her smile spread from ear to ear. Her face looked like she was a predator who had caught her prey. His hands were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and he felt a nosebleed coming. He knew they were the tell-tale symptoms of the "attack."

"Taro Yamada, get over here this instant," screamed the loud and familiar voice of Osana. Upon hearing her voice, it stopped. It was as if the "attack" did not happen. He put his finger on his nose. No presence of a nosebleed. His hands still sting from his fall. Aside from that, it was as if the pending attack did not occured.

Osana came from behind and wrapped her arms around him. "How many this do I have to tell you, baka," she screamed. "Stop where you going when you hear me." She then face the mysterious girl. " Because of your stupidity, you ran into this girl. Know where you are going next time."

Taro did not say word. He, first, was not going to apologize to Osana for his running away from her. However, his mind was still wrapped around the mysterious girl who knew his name.

"I knew your name because we go to the same school," answered the girl. She bowed as she introduce herself. "My name is Ayano Aishi."

"Hi, Ayano. Nice to meet you," said Taro as he bowed in return. "Sorry that I have bumped into you. And sorry for freaking out earlier."

"It is no problem," said Ayano as her eyes were still on his. He then realized that he had yet to let go of her hand. He took his hand away from her.

"As much as I love baka moments like this, but we have to go," said Osana as she began grabbing Taro.

"Where are we going," said Taro as he protested to Osana.

"Going to have a talk on why you are being such a dummy," said Osana.

"Last time I check, I am 18 and don't need assistance," said Taro. "You don't always have to follow me."

"The hell I can't," protested Osana. "It isn't like I have to follow you or have you around. It is just that I don't want you to get lost or hurt someone else like her."

"Osana, I am okay, honest," said Taro.

"We are leaving now," said Osana.

Taro felt the strong grip of Osana's arm as they left the platform leaving Ayano behind. As he was leaving, he saw how her beautiful smile faded away.

As he walked away, his thoughts wrapped around his now later dinner plans with Takahashi-sensei, the encounter with the mysterious Ayano Aishi, and the usual conundrums of Osana Najimi.

The presence he felt in the classroom loomed around him again. Something was in the air other than fall and its plans were looking more absolute. Then the song by Ella Fitzgerald entered his mind.

 _Stars shining bright above you_

 _Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you_

 _Birds singin' in the sycamore trees_

 _Dream a little dream of me_

 _It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

"Something is going on and it is becoming weird. It is starting to freak me out. Please God, be with me," murmured Taro as he departed with Osana out of the train station.


	5. The Nearness of You (Part II)

The dialing tone was the only thing making noise as Taro sat on the toilet in the restroom of his job at the bookstore. With this particular restroom being for employees, he need that privacy to avoid Osana for a few minutes. Already aware of her impatience, he needed a little to dial his teacher about his tardiness to the restaurant. As it was still picking up, he worried about what kind of response would he received. It had barely been a couple of days since her arrival to his class and he wanted to give her a great impression. Two things about Taro that concern him the most: punctuality and making first impression. His father once told him that 'first impressions means everything. How you present yourself on the first go around will impact the rest of your career.' Uncertain on how true it could be, why take a chance? He had already developed a reputation as a loner, he just nothing else degrading his resume.

After a minute, the phone picked up. "Hello," said the voice from the other end. It was something her voice that appealed to Taro. It wasn't seductive, but it was very alluring. How concise and clear on the way she talked drew Taro nearer to her. It was the first time that someone beside music and books earned his attention; not since his early childhood days in elementary school.

"Hi, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro, trying his hardest to keep his composure. _Remain calm. Just relax and be yourself._ "This is Taro Yamada from your homeroom." Taro bit his lip as he noticed that his voice was shaky. He thought he sounded like a prepubescent child.

"Oh, of course, my spring chicken," said Takahashi-sensei as she laughed. "I knew exactly who this was. I saved your number in my contacts."

"Yeah, right," said Taro, "You must do that to all of your students?"

"No," said Takahashi-sensei simply. Taro felt how simple and how straightforward his teacher was. It was different and he liked it. "Just those I think I deem as special."

"Really," said Taro, "Anyway, I am calling because I am afraid I might be late to our dinner date."

There was a moment of silence from the receiver. Taro's stomach churned and his palm were sweating from the anticipation of her response. Will it be positive? Negative? Upsetting? He needed to know right away.

"Oh, dear, that does not sound good," replied Takahashi-sensei. "I really wanted to get to know more about you. That was why I wanted this to happen."

If the ceiling collapsed on itself, Taro did not mind. _My father was right. I have messed up and now she thinks I did not try hard enough to meet you,_ he thought.

"Where are you right now, Mr. Yamada?" Takahashi-sensei's voice was in form of curiosity and concern.

"I am at my job at the bookstore," answered Taro.

"I know exactly where to find you," said Takahashi-sensei. "Stay where you are. I will come and pick you up."

"I am not dressed. I am still in my school clothes," said Taro as he looked at himself. His uniform was dirty from the fall he had at the subway. He smelled his own perspiration on his clothes. He wanted to bathe so that he could be presentable. That was part of Taro's nature about punctuality and first impressions.

"That is fine, Mr. Yamada," said Takahashi-sensei. "Right now, I am leaving the gym. So, I am not at my best either. We are just having a chat is all."

Taro quietly thanked God along with a sigh of relief. "Great, I mean not in a sense of us being dirty. I mean I won't be alone. Umm, come as I am."

Taro face blushed as he felt the vibrations of her laughter coming from the other end. "Okay, Mr. Yamada. Wait there and I will be on my way. Give me about 30 to 45 minutes. Okay?"

"Great! See you then," said Taro as he bowed from the toilet.

He hanged up the phone as he wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. _I can't believe it! I am about to have dinner with one of my favorite poets! This is going to be amazing._

Suddenly, he abruptly stopped when he noticed his own excitement. _Remember, stay calm and relax. Rationalize your thoughts. Rationalization over emotions is the greater factor._ He took a few breaths before exiting the restroom.

As soon as he departed from the restroom, reality set in as he heard the rantings of Osana when her eyes darted at him. Like an invisible ribbon gravitating his force around him, he was pulled toward the direction of where Osana was seated.

The bookstore had a small cafe where patrons purchased coffee and snacks. At that particular time of the evening, the grey marbled corner would be filled with patrons. However, with a holiday approaching, it was empty. Nevertheless, the sweet aroma of coffee filled the area along with the citrus fragrance looming from the flowers his boss had recently purchased. At its only booth, next to the window exposing the garden district, sat Osana with her eyes set on him. For the many years, he had known her, he now learn to ignore her rantings. Today was one of those days as he sat in the booth across from her.

"It took you long enough," said Osana. She had her elbows on the table. She rested her chin on her palms, with her eyes yet to leave Taro's sight. Taro looked her eyes as it matched her personality. A bruised ego, he thought. He remained questioning on why was he still friends with her.

"Sorry, had to take care of business," replied Taro as he looked at the menu.

She looked at the menu and he watched her eyes fixed on a certain item. "Do they sell good macarons here?"

"Yeah, they do. The best if you ask me."

"Then why not order me some for the table."

"Why do I have to pay?"

"One, you are a baka. And two, you owe me for chasing you early."

"You are still bent on that?"

"Damn straight, I am. What could have happened if you got lost or hurt yourself?"

"Osana, this is a small town. Worst case, I would have been back around in an hour or an hour and a half."

"Well, excuse me, you baka. Sometimes, I think you are a shit for brains."

 _At least I could flush shit down the toilet without having it to talk to me like that._ That was what he actually wanted to tell Osana. However, not wanting to expose his true feelings, he opted for something subtle. "I will pay you back with these macarons and we can call it even. Deal?"

"Deal," said Osana as her frustration went away. Taro did not like how ingrained her wrinkles were when she furrowed her eyebrows. He had always thought she had pretty eyebrows. Everything about her was pretty. Time after time, he wanted to express himself about her personality, then he thought about her protective shell. He was not better than what she was. And it always answered his question on their longevity of friendship: birds of a feather flock together.

"Easy now, kids. You know it is bad luck for kids to talk like that," said the gentle-voiced woman.

Both turned and saw the older woman that was Taro's boss. She wiped her hands gently on her red-and-white checkered tattered apron as she approach the pair. She rested her eyes as she began scratching her forehead. "You need to quit worrying about silly things, kids. Worrying can bring wrinkles. Especially to you, young lady." She winked at Osana which made her blushed. She looked away from Taro's boss and faced the window.

"What can I help you with today, dear," asked Taro's boss as she remained smiling at him.

"I would like to have one of your finest macarons, ma'am, please," said Taro.

"Right away," said the boss. Before she walked away, she asked, "Would you care for something to drink?"

"Sure! What is today's special," asked Taro.

"Well, we have the blackberry oolong tea and the hot cocoa with peppermint," replied the boss.

"I think I will take the blackberry oolong tea," said Taro. "What about you, Osana?"

She was still looking away at the window. She sharply glared at Taro. "I will take what you have."

"Oh dear, I think you should try the hot cocoa with peppermint," said the boss while looking at Osana.

"How come," she said faintly.

"Because it matches your personality: feisty, yet sweet," said the boss as she chuckled.

"Very funny," replied Osana. "Fine! Give me whatever it was."

"Excellent! Be right back," said the boss. The boss walked in a cheery fashion as she began humming a tone.

When the boss walked into the kitchen, Osana scoffed loudly. Not loud enough where anyone else could hear, but within the proximity of the table.

"Your boss is _peachy_ ," said Osana with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"She means well. Plus, she is really cool once you get to know her," replied Taro.

A few moments later, the bell clinked as more patrons entered the bookstore. They were college-aged students, mostly female who appeared that they came out of class from the local community college that was a few blocks away. Soon, laughter filled the room as Taro and Osana awaited their order.

"To think that is going to be us soon," said Taro.

"Yeah, true," said Osana.

"Have you been looking at universities yet?"

"I have. Hokkaido and Kyoto have taken interest in me. I even got an invitation from a school in Nagasaki."

"I have looked at schools, but I want to stay local."

"Why? Is it because your grades are average and your baka brain can't handle the load?"

"No, Osana, that is not it. It is because. It is because…."

"Because what?"

"It is because of my dad."

Osana faced changed upon hearing those words. Her eyes shifted at his hands as she noticed it was shaking. Taro's issue with his father has been a sensitive subject.

"How has your father been holding up," asked Osana as she thumped her fingers on the table.

"He is okay. He has been better," replied Taro.

It was true about his father's disposition. Since the car accident, his father has been optimistic as possible. He knew that he was forever paralyzed and unable to walk again. Nevertheless, he focused on the positive. It was a raining that fateful day when his father took his daily commute home from work. As he approached an intersection, another vehicle adjacent from him lost control of his vehicle and collided at his vehicle at full force. The wreck involved two other vehicles as well as that particular vehicle burst into flames. It was fortunate that other drivers pulled his father from the wreckage, or else his father would have been among the dead.

His father survived the crash, as well as the others involved in the crash. Unfortunately, the driver who caused the crash died at the scene. Taro would never forget the day of his father's crash. It was a day that was supposed to be filled with excitement. It was the day of his 17th birthday.

He couldn't forget that day at the hospital upon learning the news of his father's accident. His sister, Honoka, was in tears whereas his mother remained calm. A calm and faithful person, his mother prayed for her husband's safety. His father was grateful to be alive. First, he told his family that he would not take anything for granted. Second, he wanted to be more dedicated to his family. Finally, he looked at Taro from the hospital bed and encourage him and his younger sister to strive for the best.

As much Taro wanted to go to an achieving university, he couldn't help but to stay behind and take care of his father. He kind of felt responsible for his father's crash. He questioned on numerous scenarios of what if he didn't sign the form to attend that prestigious high school.

Despite losing their home and their vehicle, his father reminded him that those things were just objects. He consistently reminded Taro that family was the main importance and being successful as well, not financially, but spiritually, physically, and mentally. Those abidings were part of Taro's core-family.

"If it is still a sensitive subject, then I won't talk about it," said Osana.

"No, it is fine. He is doing okay I was saying," said Taro. "He may can't walk again or do things easily, but he has hope. I can't help but to say that."

"How has your mom and Honoka been," asked Osana.

"They are doing fine. Mom has been super busy lately with work. Honoka hates her new school. Yet again, she never liked school," said Taro. "It is really because I am not there and she misses me the most."

"Your sis is such a brocon," said Osana. She had a conniving smile on her face. It sort of agitated Taro, but it was one of those qualities that made Osana cute. "I couldn't agree any more with you," he replied.

"I miss those guys. It is not the same since you left," said Osana. "My mom misses her talks with your mom. My dad enjoyed the golf games they played."

"It isn't like they are dead. They can always come and see them. We don't live that far," said Taro.

Osana tilted her head. Osana's body language was enough for Taro to understand the hidden agenda between the upper class and the lower class. Stay with your kind.

The boss arrived at the table. On the tray were the sweet scented macarons. The steam could be seen from it. She placed it at the center of the table. She then return and gave them their drinks. The blackberry oolong tea was placed in tall glass with a straw. The hot cocoa with peppermint was put in a wine glass. On top was whipped cream.

"How did you know I like it with whipped cream," asked Osana as she looked surprised. "I didn't even ask for it."

"Just a guess," said the boss, "Enjoy!"

The pair said their blessings before they partook the precious dessert. Osana took the first bite and her eyes lit like a Christmas tree.

"This is delicious!"

"Told you!"

"Who made this? I must know the chef."

"They say that a group of gnomes from the eighth dimension of hell made this. Might be one of your relatives."

"Screw you, you baka!"

"As much as you say it, I am beginning to wonder."

"You ba-. You, you. You won this round, for now."

"So, I win another one. Yay me."

The macarons were finished. The only proof of its existence were the crumbs left on the table and on the plate. Osana sipped her drink as Taro finished the last of his drink. Drinking the daily special became a tradition he created since visiting the bookstore. It was something that he added to the quirkiness. On warmer days, the veranda was open to allow readers to enjoy their drinks along with their foods. He didn't used the veranda because he thought he had no reason. But something about today made him wish that he did. Taro shrugged as he concluded that he had to wait until it was warm again.

"Since it is a holiday tomorrow, what do you want to do," asked Osana.

"Regardless to what _I_ say, it will be _your_ choice."

"You know me like a book. Seems like my training is working, you baka."

"Yeah, training."

"I was thinking that you, me, and Marcus go into town to visit the aquarium. Then, we should go to the movies or go to the drink bar and sing karaoke. Afterward, we should grab dinner..."

While Taro was listening to Osana, someone or something was trying to grab his attention. He slightly looked at the window. He watched the once empty square filled with visitors of the evening. The crowd attracted more of older teenagers and young adults. There were a small amount of families that have their kids ventured through the square. That particular area of the garden district included a shopping center, a restaurant, and a small neighborhood park that included a koi pond and a small garden shrine.

He shifted his head because he saw something was standing in the midst of the crowd. Once he fixated his eyes, he saw the figure. It was a woman. Her face was covered in a black veil. He saw that there was a white mask that covered her face behind the veil. She was very black gothic, Lolita clothing. Unable to tell what she looked like, but her appearance was beautiful. Her legs were clad in black high heel boots. Her dress was long and frilly as it extended to the ground. The sleeves were long as it dripped over her hand. Her long black hair flew in the wind like a river of silk. What completed the set was her hands were in black gloves and she was holding a bouquet of black roses.

He wondered why the crowd did not notice the mysterious girl as she stood across from the bookstore. She stayed in the position for a few minutes. Then the girl slowly moved her hand and pointed her finger at the window. His heart leaped as he knew she was staring directly at him.

He was hearing the ring coming from his ears. Knowing he was in a public place, he did his best to keep calm, especially with Osana. When he turned to Osana, she continued talking. There was a problem. He could not hear anything was coming from her mouth. Suddenly, everything around him went silent.

When he faced the window, the mysterious figure pressed her face against the window. Taro jolted at the surprise he received. What she did next scared Taro. She pulled out a tube of red lipstick and began drawing on the window. She continued to draw as he heard the rubbing of the lipstick making contact with the window. It was a excruciating sound, but he was curious to know what was happening. When she was finished, Taro saw that it was a shape of a heart. What she did next was drawing a triangle with a line dissecting the triangle. It was the the symbol of the umbrella that paired lovers.

Taro looked in horror as the masked stranger point at him and then at herself. She took off her mask, and then slowly lifted her veil. With only her lips being seen, she lick the lipstick drawing and then kiss on the window facing his direction. He heard her spoke.

 _Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro? Taro? Taro? Taro?_

"Taro? Taro? Are you even listening to me, you baka," asked Osana.

Taro was still in a dazed until a flick of a finger to his head immediately returned Taro to reality.

"I am right, you dummy. There is no way you can live without me," said Osana with a hint of satisfaction from her voice.

Taro rubbed his head as he felt the cold, dripping sweat coming down. He closed his eyes as he wanted to know if this was real or not. Taro questioned on where was these strange occurrences coming from. He did not feel like that since back when he was in the third grade when he was in the forest.

 _What is happening to me? Why is it happening to me? My head is throbbing like crazy and it is scaring the hell out of me. These "attacks" are more frequent than usual. More importantly, why now? There is something in the atmosphere and it is scaring me. Why am I having these words coming at me? Why am I thinking about the forest? I tried my hardest to not think about that day. To be honest, I don't even remember what happened that day. I was walking up the steps and I was going into the main area. Then, suddenly, blink._

A buzz from his cell phone vibrating in his pocket interrupted his thought as he saw that it was Takahashi-sensei.

"Hello," answered Taro.

"Hello, my spring chicken. I am outside in the parking lot waiting for you," said Takahashi-sensei, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, yes I am," said Taro. "I am on my way."

"Can't wait," said Takahashi-sensei as she chuckled before hanging out.

Taro put the phone from his pocket. He saw that Osana looked confused about what happened a few moments ago.

"Sorry, Osana, but I have to go."

"Where are you going?"

"Taking care of business, Osana."

"At least where?"

"No time," responded Taro as he placed the money on the table before leaving. Before leaving he turned to Osana. "We should hang out tomorrow. A great idea!" He left Osana at the table and walked out of the bookstore. Before he left, he texted Takahashi-sensei to meet him on the opposite end of the garden district.

Taro was the kind of individual who believed in discretion. Although he was looking at Takahashi-sensei as his poet, but she was still a teacher. Teacher to student relationship, outside of school, were strictly forbidden. If the school, the students, or Osana were to discover, then they would be in trouble. What surprised Taro was that there was no opposition or even apprehension coming from her. She did not have any reservations about it. He paid it no mind, but it was still peculiar.

He approached the desolate parking lot on the opposite end of the garden district where Takahashi-sensei awaited his arrival. As he arrived, he saw a blue sports convertible. A beautiful model vehicle needed a better background than the parking lot. The door opened and out came Takahashi-sensei in her gym clothes.

She wearing a purple jumpsuit with a purple jacket. The outfit was very tight as it carved into her attractive features. Her hair was wrapped in a ponytail and she was wearing glasses. Taro was very surprised about her appearance, but she looked attractive even out of her work clothes.

"Mr. Yamada, glad to see you," said Takahashi-sensei.

"Hi, Takahashi-sensei," responded Taro. "Thank you for finding me and picking me up."

"No problem. The pleasure is all mine."

"Cool!"

The pair stare for a couple of seconds before Takahashi-sensei went to the car.

"Put your backpack in the back seat and hop on in," said Takahashi-sensei.

Taro walked into the car and closed the door behind him.

"So, are you ready to have enjoy this poet," asked Takahashi-sensei.

"Looking forward to it," said Taro.

The blue convertible left the parking lot and enter the main street before leaving the horizon. As the car departed, a shadow emerged, overlooking the now empty parking lot.


	6. Stray House

The jagged wind pushed on the car to no avail. The car was going forward and nothing but a blessed tragedy could change that. The tires of the convertible made their monotonous hiss over the sun-bleached highway and the air that made its way through the filters were bittersweet. All around the highway, through the tinted windows was open fields. Inside that tin box destined for the horizon the world outside continued like some choreographed dance, but without the soul it should have. Was there a reason under the sun that no one could stop and walk barefoot in the grass and feel the cool air of autumn? Was there no one that could hold up a brave hand and say stop? There was none because neither party wanted to stop the venturous ride.

Takahashi-sensei fiddled with the radio to fill their ears with the latest popular tunes, from the new pop idols. Taro wished that Japanese DJs would catch up with the westerners and put on some soothing sounds of Jimi Hendrix, The Alan Parsons Project, Queen, or Kansas. But instead, he had to suffice for the latest pop idols that would fade away like tamagotchis and mood rings. They were a dime-a-dozen to him. Young teenage heartthrobs, discovered at the mall or at a venue, signed a contract to perform a few songs, and then virtually disappear for another teenage sensation. The latter were the things of the past, but music that Taro could blend his emotions in, that was forever.

He sat in the plush seat of his teacher's convertible as she shifted gears through the highway. He watched how she did it without incident. She was careful to maintain composure as the speedometer went the speed that was higher than his class grades. He noticed how she was concentrating. He watched her fingertips glided on the steering wheel. He peered over the tinted windows as they ventured away from his domicile. He knew that they had already passed the Italian restaurant, but he never asked where they were going. For some reason, he did not want to. He had never felt that way in quite some time. He knew there was a destination. It was the journey that made the difference. As she drove with her intentions to that destination, he could see that she was on a mission and its name was desire.

The sun disappeared onto the horizon and the moon, accompanied by the stars, reclaimed its sky, for its short time. Nighttime stretched onto the sky from the daytime they left behind. Except with his parents or on school trips, this was the first time Taro travelled alone in the night. Of course, he wasn't alone, but the feeling was quite foreign. He questioned what made accept the offer of riding in a car with a complete stranger that was his teacher. Quite whimsical, he thought, but something in his subconsciousness yearned for that adventure. Something in his spirit told him to go with Takahashi-sensei. Regardless of his choice, he sat back and went alone with the ride.

This was the first time that Taro has ever left town since his father's accident. Regardless that his parents were natural homebodies, they promised their children one vacation each year. With their savings they collected throughout the year, the family travelled to onsens, amusement parks, and the beach. His favorite beach was in Miyazaki. There was nothing particular or extraordinary about the beach, he just loved its simplicity. There, he sat and watched Honoka build sand castles with their mother; and their father lying on a towel to catch up with his mystery novels. It was simple, but it was something that Taro could cherish. Since the accident, all of their savings were spent on his father. He made a silent promise that he was going to save his money to give him and his family another vacation. Once he could afford it, he would return to the Miyazaki beach.

 _Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

 _How the heart feels a languid grief_

 _Laid on it for a covering,_

 _And how sleep seems a goodly thing_

 _In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?_

The sultry voice interrupted Taro's train of thought. He listened as Takahashi-sensei recited a poem. From what he remembered, it was about autumn, his favorite time of year. It was because of autumn that met his favorite poet at that time. It was autumn that caused him to be where he was in this current predicament. He relaxed as he continued listening to his private poetry session for two.

 _And how the swift beat of the brain_

 _Falters because it is in vain,_

 _In Autumn at the fall of the leaf_

 _Knowest thou not? and how the chief_

 _Of joys seems not to suffer pain?_

He clinged to every word she released from the sultry poem. If poetry was pollen, then he was the bee. Because, he wanted to hear more of what Takahashi-sensei was saying. As she was driving, she turned her head at Takahashi-sensei. Both of their eyes met and never left their sight.

 _Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

 _How the soul feels like a dried sheaf_

 _Bound up at length for harvesting,_

 _And how death seems a comely thing_

 _In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?_

"Autumn Song." Taro was quite familiar with the poetry when hearing the last few bars. He was in the hotel room when one of his classmates read it aloud in front of them. Unlike Taro, the classmate spewed on those words. It was an insult to all poetry lovers everywhere. Although a pacifist, for a moment, he wanted to slap the boy for insulting something that was beautiful of a poem. He compared poetry to women. He knew that he was unable to speak woman, but poetry served as an alternative to women. Once in his diary, he wrote a narrative on his comparison of women with poetry.

 _She appeared in the room with the winter snow hovering around her skirt. Most will not pay attention to her beauty, but rather her color. Crimson rose never looked so beautiful on a woman. Red as the summer sky that transcends into the leaves that we call autumn. She is nature. She is the mother of our Earth. With her black hair, long as wool, she walks in confidence with her head held up high. In an effortless saunter, she waltzes among us. The footsteps she makes adds rhythm to soft classical music that played onward without pause. Her eyes scanned the room in determination for someone of interest. When her eyes met mine, she smiled. Beautiful as the stars themselves, she continued what she was within my distance. Her soft cushion of her lips told more than what words can say. Her limitless effort to receive her love was loving. In return, I closed my eyes so I can accept hers for I want her to accept mine._

"Autumn Song is one of my favorite works," answered Takahashi-sensei. "My professor recited it to us in our poetry class back in college." Takahashi-sensei reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. She then looked at Taro as he averted his eyes. "It is okay if I smoke in here?"

"No, not at all. I mean, it's your car," answered Taro. He didn't turn. Something about a woman smoking cigarettes was very alluring. It gave a woman a dominant sense; a feeling that she was in charge of her body. It was her decision on how she displayed her femininity. It was appealing to the naive, novice Taro.

Out came the pink lighter as she lit the flame onto the cigarette. She inhaled deeply as the smoke consumed her lungs. Taro imagined that Takahashi-sensei disregarded the warnings on the dangers of smoking, but couldn't care. _I can imagine that she is holding it there trapped, thinking how her lungs must hate her now having so little regard for them they must be screaming at her at the top of their lungs-she refused to smile- those poor dying little cells that only wanted her well; how could she do this to them? She craved oxygen now but not until her entire body got the message that she was crazy and not to be trifled with._ Taro laughed to himself over what his teacher could be thinking.

She took another puff of the smoke from her lips and blew it in the air carefully. Taro watched the lipstick-stained cigarette flick on the ashtray on the dashboard. The smoke lingered in the air as a reminder of her actions, she pulled down the window with a small crack to let the air escape.

"Sorry about that," said Takahashi-sensei. Taro, despite his coughing, didn't mind it. The brush of cool air went into the car as her hair waved into the wind. It was like a river of silk. In the dark, Takahashi-sensei looked very ominous and mysterious with her glasses. She reminded him of the characters that were featured in the manga books he read. They were the type of characters that either played innocent or had an ace up their sleeve. Which side of the coin would Taro see?

"Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Yamada," asked Takahashi-sensei. "What goes on in the mind of this little spring chicken."

Taro explained his age, his family background, his interest in books and poetry, and the like. Taro learned from experience to only give out information that he did not mind being repeated. His mother had always warned him on wandering eyes. _Just because they looked friendly and they smiled, doesn't mean it is necessary to tell them everything about you. Remember, Judas smiled at Jesus on the very day of his crucifixion._ Mitsuko Takahashi might be friendly, but has not made the prerequisites of their acquaintanceship between teacher and student.

Upon his conclusion on his background, Takahashi-sensei looked satisfied. "It is good to have a teenage who is very close to his family. Many of my students, in the past, couldn't give a single thought about their parents. Unless there was something in particular they wanted for their own game."

"My family and I are very close knit. It has been since we have moved here from Fukuoka," said Taro.

"Oh, you are a Kyushu native," asked Takahashi-sensei in a Kyushu dialect.

"Very spot on, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro in his native dialect.

"I am originally from there, myself," said Takahashi-sensei. "I was born in Yame, but my parents raised us in Kitakyushu."

"Kitakyushu is not that far from Fukuoka," said Taro.

"Yes, sir. We are virtually neighbors," she said. "Amazing how fate can bring people together."

 _What did she mean 'fate?'_ That was what they came to his mind.

 _ **Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro?**_

He closed his eyes. His head was throbbing profusely. His hands were sweating and began trembling. He knew that he was on the verge of having the "attack." To gain back control, he slowly breathed. He took slow breaths to calm the tension.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was no longer in the car. He was no longer on the hallway. He looked at the vegetation and realized that he was back in the forest of his native Fukuoka.

"Takahashi-sensei," questioned Taro.

There was no answer. He took a few steps back. Only the sounds of the crackling leaves were the source of sound. He flinched as he fell backwards onto the stairs. He got back up and saw the entrance of the forbidden abandoned shrine.

"Takahashi-sensei," questioned Taro. He was careful not to be too loud, trying not to alert any visitors. Why would he returned to the forest from his past? Especially from a past he had a hard time remembering.

He proceed forward to enter the stairs. Each with a nerve wrecking creaking sound, as if alerting the stranger to go back, he went up the stairs. He stood in the main area of the shrine, the shrine that the locals called, _mayohiga_. From his thought, he pictured sitting on his grandfather's lap as he told the story of the abandoned shrine in the forest.

' _That forest was one of those places which had no palpable reason to exist. It was a creaking shack created by nature to serve as a reminder that things could always be much, much worse. The unnatural, choking mist that swirled and sprawled on the forest floor was the first thing that spoke of a strange sort of wrongness,' his grandfather had said._

' _Why is it forbidden to go to such a place? Can you all just burn it down?'_

' _You can't, my dear grandson. There are spirits that claim that forest home. If their home was destroyed, then we will all be in danger. Spirits need host and we don't want the others to become a host to these spirits. For as long we keep separate, then all is well with the world.'_

Taro entered the _mayohiga_ , or stray house. He was in the main corridor. On the wall, The sickly white substance seemed to possess liquid properties which only reminded him of the maggot-like texture of the eyes of a dead man who had been forgotten in his apartment for a few months, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Slowly, he titled himself away from the foreign object and continue down the hallway from the main corridor.

The sound of mushy and dead leaves whispered from under the soles of his feet as he kept forward. He remembered in the past that he went down that way in search for an artifact to prove to his classmates that he was there. Why did he subjected to such peer pressure, he thought to himself on his past.

The further he walked, the thicker the air became, which caused him to choke. He fell to knees as he tried his hardest to breathe. And then, everything went blank.

 _ **Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro? Taro? Taro?**_

"Taro, Taro," said the familiar voice of Takahashi-sensei. "Taro, snap out of it!"

Hiro fixated his eyes and jolted quickly. He was gasping for air as if he was suffocating or drowning.

"Calm down, Mr. Yamada, calm down," said Takahashi-sensei as she placed her arm around him.

Taro was breathing hard and after a minute, he started calming down. How long was he out? He gritted his teeth in embarrassment that he had suffered another "attack," and in front of Takahashi-sensei. When he checked his surroundings, they were no longer in the car. He was lying on the grass along the highway. His head was resting on Takahashi-sensei's lap. He had a wet towel on his forehead. He blushed by his lap pillow and that she had witness his "attacks."

"I thought I may have lost you," said Takahashi-sensei. "Are you alright."

"I am fine, thanks," said Taro.

"Oh no, look at your nose," she said. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and lightly dab his nose bleed.

"I am fine, trust me," affirmed Taro. "This thing is kind of normal." He lied on her lap and saw on how really beautiful she was. He blushed as he tried his hardest to gain his composure, but he knew it was failing. "What happened?"

"We were talking about being from Kyushu and then you passed out. I didn't know what to do so I pulled over. I wouldn't called 119, but we were too far out. I did what I could to get you back to health. That was very scary." Her worried look made Taro feel bad.

"I am sorry, sensei," replied Taro. "I should have told you about this, but I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal," she said, "You had me worried. I don't want nothing bad to happen to you." She added, "How long have you had this."

"Since I was a child," he said. "Doctors can't explain it. I call it a 'standstill.'"

"A standstill," she asked with curiosity.

"I nicknamed it around the time I was in the sixth grade," confirmed Taro. "Whenever I face some serious tension, I lose control of my body, I sweat, and my nose begins to bleed. When all of it occurs, then I go into a coma-like state." He tried to sit up from Takahashi-sensei, but she urged him to stay on her lap.

"I tend to be out for a few minutes at a time. When I come to, I get kind of sick, but that is just the norm," said Taro.

"You make it sound like it is routine," she said.

"I can't explain it though," said Taro. "I wish I can know why I have these attacks, or standstills. Then, I can get some help. But, I don't know. I don't know."

"Don't scare me like that again, Mr. Yamada," said Takahashi-sensei. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I am sorry," said Taro as he tilted his head in a form of a bow.

"Listen, it is getting kind of late. Why not get together another time," said Takahashi-sensei. "Let's get you home, okay?"

Without a second thought, Takahashi-sensei led Taro into the car and closed the door. She turned the convertible around and return to the city.

 _Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

 _How the soul feels like a dried sheaf_

 _Bound up at length for harvesting,_

 _ **And how death seems a comely thing**_

 _ **In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?**_


	7. Lost in the Sea of Trees

The neverending lights of the city faded away as Taro became enveloped in the blackness of the forbidden forest. The thickness of the dark blanketed him as he couldn't see anything in front of him. It was silent, very hauntingly silent. As if one sense was robbed, but the others became heightened. It was very disorienting, scaring the already fearful Taro. Like ears of a wolf, the soft wave of branches and the crackling of dead leaves felt heavy to his eardrum.

His nose was sensitized by the loam of the Earth and its decomposing leaves. Any source of life that made its presence faded away; living life that was. The blackness nurtured a feeling of claustrophobia inside him knowing that the many miles of the forest became endless. One thing was for certain. He was in the forest and he could not leave; unless he retrieved what he was looking for.

When he turned around, he found himself no longer in the woods, but in the main corridor of the abandoned shrine. Unlike the last time where he met the hallway and blacked out, he was alert. Without any mirrors present, he wasn't even sure if he was eight or eighteen. He did know that he had a certain acquaintanceship with these woods and this shrine has an entrapment on him.

The further he went down the hallway, the narrower it became. He saw the unevenness of the foundation, as the knotted roots of the forest returned to reclaim its property. There was no map or any source of guidance to follow. Even if there were, the perpetual darkness created hinderance. Without a lamp or even form of lighting, his sight became a liability.

He wanted to turn around and go home. He no longer wanted to be under this excruciating torment. Then what would his classmates think? Would he remain the coward that they knew he was? Would he be a laughing stock? His parents wanted him so hard to make friends. They desperately wanted Taro to fit in with his peers. He swallowed his pride and ventured on. Now if it wasn't for himself, then it would have been for his parents.

He cautiously walked through the hallway. The only sounds he could hear where the echoing of his footsteps. Creaking loudly like screams from an owl. The lump in his throat wanted to spew over in forms of tears, but he refused to submit himself there; not yet at least. Suddenly, at the corner of the hallway where it looked that it divided, there was a faint light flickering. He carefully edged to the corner; doing his best in not alerting anyone of his being here.

Slowly peeking at the corner, he discovered the flickering light to be a lantern hanging from the wall. The small flame, flickering as if it had a miniscule purpose, danced within the encased glass. Needing it as aid, Taro took the lantern. Now having light, he proceed onto the other hallway which led to a spiral staircase. He sighed as he went down the staircase to parts unknown.

How long was the staircase? How long was he walking? Where there be an end to this? Thoughts like that hit his mind as he continued the never-ending descent down the staircase. He continued until he saw a flickering light ahead. "Finally, a way out!" He said to himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He raised his eyebrow when he realized that he had already been here. He recognized the lantern hanging from the wall. He then realized that the lantern he had was gone. The lantern he retrieved earlier was still on the wall.

No longer wanting to deal with this tirade, he decided to head back to the main corridor. When he turned around, the hallway was gone. The only direction he had no choice was to go down the spiral staircase. He ventured down the same stairs from before hoping that we had seen was a figment of his imagination. When he made the descent, he was in the same place where he had started.

Fearing for the worse, he ran down the staircase until he founded himself back at the beginning. He decided to go back up the stairs to see if there was a difference. When he made his ascent towards the beginning, it remained the same. "I am stuck," he said while panicking. "No matter if I go upstairs or downstairs, I keep going to the same spot. Just the damn lantern flickering and hovering over me. It's the only damn light in this God-forsaken place."

"Taro." A eerie voice called his name from somewhere in the distance. The voice was faint and ominous. "Taro," said the now childlike voice followed by a chuckle.

"Who's there," cried Taro. His legs began trembling and his teeth were chattering. "Keep your grip, Taro. I am just fatigued. Yeah, that's right. I am fine. Remember, rationalization over emotions. Keep control."

"Taro," cried the voice. That name sent a chill over Taro as he felt the breath of those words hitting from the back of his neck. He quickly turned around and there was nothing. Nothing, but blackness.

"Taro, dear Taro," cried the voice. "I am glad you have returned, my dear Taro." The voice was hauntingly close. The voice cried in both happiness and laughter. "What kind of game do you want to play? What kind of game do you want to play?"

As he turned again, right in front of him was the source of the voice. It appeared to be a ghost, or a youkai in Japanese mythology. The ghost was dressed in black gown. Her long black hair descended to the floor. Although he couldn't see her face, but she wore a white mask that was covered by a veil. He knew it was the same apparition that he witnessed at the bookstore.

"What do you want to play? What do you want to play?" The voice cracked again in a childlike manner.

Without any hesitation, Taro made a thunderous yell as fear enveloped him in front of this strange creature. He continued until he felt a cool, soft finger touching his life.

"Please, don't make such a stir," said the ghost. "You are a good boy. So please don't make too much noise."

Taro couldn't move. His whole body was stiff by the moment he made contact with the ghost.

"I am so glad that you are back, Taro. I terribly missed you so! I hope that you have come back to stay. It would make me happy. We can be together forever and ever."

Taro tried his muster to speak, but it was interrupted when he felt the cold, dead palms of the ghost stroke his cheek.

"I hate to see my dear Taro in a mess. It seems that you don't recognize me," said the ghost. "We used to have so much fun together back when you are young child. You were so precious to me."

"We have met before," asked Taro.

"Oh, yes we have," said the ghost as she continued stroking his cheek. Taro wanted to flinch, but was unable to. He felt how cold her hand was and the texture of her skin felt like rubber. "Many, many times in the past. But, alas, you are no longer a child, aren't you, dear."

Taro said nothing. He did not know what to say. Here he was stuck in a position with a ghost that claimed that they are familiar with each other. What made it more damning was that he was not the eight year child that ventured into those woods, but at his current age.

"But that is okay," said the ghost as he interrupted his thought. "Since you are an adult. I think it is safe to play an adult game. Would you mind that, my dear Taro."

Taro looked away, but her hand grabbed his chin and made him look at her. "You were such a pretty child to me, Taro. Now you are a pretty boy. Now, follow me this way. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play our games. You always did like our games. Right, my spring chicken."

 _My spring chicken._

 _My spring chicken._

 _My spring chicken._

Taro screamed loudly as he woke up from his horrid nightmare. He swinged his fist and gnashed his teeth before falling off of his bed. He should be grateful that the thunderous sound of the rain outside blanketed his scenic tantrum.

He looked up and saw his ceiling. The rain made its shadows as it danced from his window. The cold sweat of his nightmare was shown all over his clothes. When he came to the bed, he felt the cold sweat soaked through his sheets as well. He sat on the bed to reach out for a box of tissue on his nightstand.

Taro wanted to cry as his "attacks" were becoming more frequent. This was the first time in which it had occurred in his sleep. Finding a solution to alleviate the pain, he asked his mother to borrow some medication from his father. One of the pills was an active ingredient for night terrors. His mother knew and her eyes were filled with worry that the "attacks" have returned. She mentioned before he went to bed that he was going to see a doctor. He hasn't been to a doctor for quite some time. He knew how worrisome his mother and now his father were becoming of him, he submitted himself to their will. That was the kind of love he had for his parents.

He took the medication and chased it with a bottle of water he kept by his nightstand. He leaned against the bedpost to collect his thoughts. He whispered a prayer for these "attacks" or standstills. "The devil is hard at work." He said to himself as he pulled up the covers.

Not long after that, he heard a knock at the door. It was a faint knock, followed by three fainter knocks. He knew it was the signal that his younger sister, Honoka, was at the door. He made three quick knocks from his nightstand, allowing her entry into the room.

The door opened slowly, quiet enough to not disturb the other residents of the tiny apartment. Standing before Taro was his younger sister, Hanako. Hanako was a cute young woman. Often nicknamed his twin because on how similar they looked. She shared the same black hair and black eyes. If Taro looked more feminine and had longer hair, then he would be virtually his sister.

Tonight, she was not her usual cheery, upbeat self. Instead, she put on a worrisome face. Her black eyes twinkled from his point of view. She was wearing an overworn pink nightgown. The skirt stopped to her knees. On a normal night, she wore pajamas. Since their mother has not laundried, she wore what she had leftover. She stroked the back of her hair that extended to the top of her shoulder. She even tried to produce a fake smile. Taro knew she was putting on an act. To lessen the awkwardness, Taro broke the silence.

"Hey, sis," said Taro.

"Hi," said Hanako. Hanako remained still at the foot of his bed. Taro wished that she could throw away the worn nightgown. However, she won't. It was because it was the nightgown that Taro picked for her on her 14th birthday. The nightgown featured her favorite anime character, but since then, the character faded out.

"Would you like to keep me company for a while," asked Taro. He opened his blanket and patted the available side of the bed. Without hesitation, Hanako climbed into bed and lied on the pillow beside her older brother. She got herself comfortable and snuggled herself next to him. He quickly felt her warmth and her body, but it did not mattered.

"Comfortable," asked Taro.

"Yes," said Hanako.

Taro did not mind the company, especially after the nightmare that he had. It was not the first time to have nightmares like that. He had suffered from night terrors back when he was a child. As always, his sister would be by his side and comfort him until daybreak. It bought him comfort on how dependable and reliant his younger sister was.

However, at seventeen years old, Hanako Yamada was a clingy young woman. A class beauty at her school, she has attracted fans through her high school, her former high school, and the locals in their neighborhood. How could he forget the handful of love letters he received in his locker for his sister. At one point, suitors would stop him to relay messages to Hanako. Rather be a boy or a girl, Hanako was the apple of many's eyes, including her parents.

There were not any favorites in the family, but Hanako was given leniency than Taro. Taro thinks that it is because she is the younger child and more manageable than he was growing up. With his ailments of his childhood, he was more of a handful. Despite his upbringing and "shortcomings," Hanako was always on his side. She was devoted to her brother and her brother, alone. With that, came responsibility and consequences.

"Big brother," asked Hanako. "I heard you scream again. Was it one of your night terrors?"

Taro shook his head in disagreement.

"Was it the standstill again," asked Hanako.

Taro nodded his head. Hanako wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. She pressed her face against his chest before kissing him on his neck. "I am sorry, big brother. Sorry I was not there to stop you from having these bad dreams."

There was nothing that could be done, especially for her sake. However, it felt good to know that he was loved and supported. Even if it came from a ditzy, clingy younger sister.

"I am fine, sis, trust me," said Taro. "It was a nightmare, that's all. I am okay."

"I still don't like when you get them, big brother," said Hanako. "Very scary, for me, and for you."

"Don't you worry," said Taro rubbing his head on his sister. "I am fine. Remember what I told you. If have any of those nightmares, come into my room and stay with me. That's all I want you to do."

"Okay, big brother," said Hanako.

There was silence for a few moments until Hanako broke the silence.

"Taro, have you been having these attacks recently," asked Hanako with a tone of worry.

"Yes," said Taro simply.

"No, no, no," said Hanako as she tugged the comforter. She looked at Taro before looking away. "I wish it would stop. I wish it did."

"Hanako," said Taro. That was all he could say. What more could he say?

"I can't wait until I go to college so I can become a doctor," said Hanako. "I will find what I need to find a cure for you, big brother. I don't want you to die. I need you. I don't want you to end up like Michiko."

"I won't end up like Michiko," said Taro. "Have some faith in me. With yourself." He noticed the red-hearted clip on the left side of her hair. "You remembered the time when we went to the mall back in Osaka on that field trip in middle school."

"How could I forget? We saw so many things. It was awesome!" Hanako jumped with excitement. It was also a great subject changer as Taro didn't want to talk any further about his standstills or night terrors. "We went to that amusement park and I took pictures with their mascot. We sang karaoke. We played video games. You took me everywhere."

"Yes we did," said Taro. "Don't forget when we were fighting for that iPad at that crane machine."

"Dude, we were so close," said Hanako. "But in the end, we got that hairclip."

"That's right," said Taro. "It was the very hairclip that you are rocking now."

"You gave it to me," said Hanako.

"It was a symbol of our undying relationship as brother and sister," said Taro smiling. "No matter what happens to me, I will always be there. It is because I love you, sis."

"I love you, too, big brother," said Hanako. "Please don't get married."

"Such a sudden change of subject," cried Taro. "I am not worried about marriage right now. You can relax. I don't want you to marry right now anyway."

"No worries, big brother. I am the bride to my brother," said Hanako in excitement.

Taro blushed at that. Osana was right about his sister after all. _My God, she is such a brocon!_

Hanako began yawning. Taro knew she was fighting her sleepiness. He knew she was getting close. "Get some rest, little sis. Talk to you in the morning." He adjusted his blanket to provide Hanako with extra warmth.

"Sweet dreams," said Hanako.

"Night," said Taro.

"Big brother."

"Yeah."

"You forgot something."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

"You always do it so you won't get anymore bad dreams."

"Alright."

Taro intertwined his hands with Hanako. He closed his eyes as he felt his lips in contact with Hanako's lips. Although he has yet to have his first kiss; technically, he has kissed two girls in his life: Osana and Hanako. Unlike the dare he had with Osana in their childhood, the kiss he shared with his sister was mutual love. He did not have any insestous feelings for his sister. Unsure about her, he knew that he was comfortable to share that kind of love with her. Hanako enveloped his for a few seconds before releasing it.

"Bad dreams go away," said Hanako in a sing-song. Hanako turned over and went to sleep.

Taro remained awake so he could gather his thoughts. He turned the night lamp and positioned it so he would not wake his sister. He pulled out a book from his nightstand drawer and began reading it. He continued until he fell asleep, with back in hand, beside his sister.


End file.
